State of Mind
by Sara Holmes
Summary: HP/DM. Harry doesn't have a hero complex, he just really wants to help. However, he gets more than he bargained for after rescuing Draco Malfoy from an isolation cell in Saint Mungo's... WARNINGS for sexual content and mature themes
1. Putting up a fight

'Fear for the worst, I can't catch my breath.

My heart beats to the sound of unrest.'

_State of Mind - Mad Caddies_

* * *

DISCLAIMER: It breaks my heart every time to have to write that I don't own Harry Potter or any of his friends. That honour goes to JK Rowling and The Publishers. No money is being made from this story and no copyright infringement is intended. If I did own them, that epilogue would have been _so _much more fun.

WARNINGS: Sexual content, slash, suicide references, swearing, and spooning.

_Yes, suicide is a theme in this story although it's NOT going to be explicit or overly and unnecessarily descriptive (so no actual suicide/self harm scenes)- the focus is much more on the psychology behind it, and the healing process. Just a heads up before we get rolling on this bad boy._

* * *

**Chapter 1: Putting up a fight**

It was a glorious morning. The magnolia corridors of Saint Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries were bright with sunlight and it was peaceful and quiet. The only noise that broke the stillness in the East corridor was the squeak of a pair of trainers on the linoleum floor and the soft humming of the dark haired man to whom the footsteps belonged as he strolled along with his hands in his pockets and a smile on his face.

Harry Potter had long given up arguing that he didn't need to come to Saint Mungo's anymore. After the war he had understood Hermione's argument; being dead for fourteen and a half minutes had definitely warranted the need for some medical attention. Now, over two years on he really didn't see the point in these check ups as he was always a hundred percent fine, but if it gave Hermione and the Weasleys some peace of mind (and stopped the nagging), he'd carry on going.

This check up had been just the same as the last, namely dull. His Healer had half-heartedly performed the necessary diagnostic spells on Harry and stamped his form with a "fit for all" mark without even reading it.

Harry reached the juncture of two corridors and paused, looking down each branch and wondering which way to take out. The South exit would put him closer to home, but the North would point him in the direction of Ron and Hermione's which would mean tea, biscuits and chatter. It didn't take him long to decide; he had taken the first step to walk straight on towards the North exit when a shout shattered the quietness of the hospital, coming from somewhere behind the double doors to his right.

Harry paused, a frown forming on his face as the yelling continued and grew steadily louder, obviously heading in his direction. He couldn't pick out any words but it was clear that the owner of the shouting voice was less than happy about something or other. As Harry listened he realised that the voice seemed vaguely familiar, but placing it was like trying to hold onto the remnants of a hazy dream and the answer eluded him.

Curiosity overrode his common sense and he was about to peer through one of the circular windows in the doors to the right when they were flung open with a crash, causing Harry to step smartly backwards with his back against the wall. The party consisted of five people; four frustrated looking Healers, two of which were dragging someone unceremoniously along the corridor. A very blond someone, who was cursing fluently and struggling violently.

Harry's jaw dropped. The scrawny boy the Healers were hauling along the corridor was more than familiar.

Draco Malfoy.

Harry hadn't seen him in almost two years, since Harry had testified at his appeal to have him released from Azkaban. The appeal had been successful and Draco had come out of prison and promptly disappeared from the face of the planet. It didn't seem that his fortunes had improved much since.

"Just fucking let me go you bunch of fucking mudblood excuses for Healers, let me fucking GO!"

Harry watched, flabbergasted as Draco was hauled through another set of double doors and along the corridor to his left, still swearing with every other word. He was dressed in a pair of white hospital issue pyjamas that made him look even paler than normal and his white blond hair had been cut brutally short. That, combined with the fact the Slytherin seemed to have grown at least another foot in two years, made him barely recognisable from the boy Harry had known at Hogwarts.

Before Harry knew what he was doing, he was slipping through the double doors and following the Healers along the corridor into a wing of the hospital he had never visited. He kept his distance, treading softly, but he needn't have worried; Draco was too busy hurling abuse at the Healers to notice Harry slinking along the corridor behind them.

Harry rounded a corner after the group just in time to see Draco being deposited into a room with a blue door, which was slammed behind him, one of the Healers leaning against it and panting as another pointed his wand at the door to lock it.

"What a nightmare. I don't know how he's so damn strong," the Healer leaning on the door complained.

"Desperate," another replied, nodding knowledgably.

"I don't care what's up with him as long as we don't have to move him, ever again," another replied crossly.

"Excuse me?"

All four rounded on Harry as he spoke carefully behind them. Four pairs of eyes did the familiar flick to his scar and then widened.

"Mr Potter!"

"Sir, sorry, we didn't see you sir-"

"Are you lost, Sir?"

"Can we do anything for you Sir-"

"We would have-"

"No, I'm alright," Harry said firmly, cutting across the babbling. "I just…was that really Draco Malfoy I just saw?"

The Healers glanced at each other uneasily and then one nodded. "Yes, Sir. The Director requested he be put in isolation due to…well his foul language for one. He was upsetting the others on the ward."

"Why is he here?" Harry got straight to the point.

The four Healers simultaneously glanced at him and then quickly at the door as a loud bang and muffled shouting came from inside the room. "Sorry Sir, we can't tell you. Only next of kin, you know?"

A hollow feeling swooped down on Harry's stomach and he blanched at the Healer's words. It was common knowledge that Lucius Malfoy had been sentenced to receive the Dementors Kiss for the part he played in the war and Narcissa had succumbed to grief not a month later. Any family of Draco's that Harry knew of were also dead; Bellatrix having perished in the final battle and Andromeda having died of Dragon Pox not six months ago.

Draco had no next of kin.

"Who's down as his next of kin?" Harry demanded as soon as his brain had processed the thought.

"Well…He isn't recorded as having any, Sir."

Harry gaped at the four Healers who were looking distinctly uncomfortable under his unabashed staring. "He's here _by himself?" _Harry asked incredulously. "How long has he been here?"

"Four months, Sir."

"Stop calling me Sir," Harry said irritably, before pushing his glasses up and pinching the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself and sort out the whirl of feelings and thoughts he'd be swamped by upon seeing Malfoy. "Sorry. It's just…I wasn't expecting to ever see him again _anywhere_, least of all in here. Can I see him?"

The question took everyone by surprise, including Harry himself. What the hell? He didn't even know if he wanted to see Draco Malfoy ever again, but a Healer was already nodding and pulling his wand out of his robes. Harry half-wished someone would just say _no _to him for once to stop him from getting himself into these sort of situations.

"I'd advise you take your wand in, Sir. The room leaves you free to perform a body bind curse if needed but anything else you'll be…"

"I'm not going to curse him," Harry said patiently, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes.

"You might have to," the Healer said ruefully. Harry nodded and faced the blue door, wondering what in the name of Merlin was possessing him to do this as the Healer pointed his wand at the door and unlocked it.


	2. Common sense

**Chapter 2: Common sense**

Malfoy's new room was akin to a prison cell. Not a fraction on Azkaban, but bare, cold and uninviting nevertheless. The walls were a bright clinical white, and all there was in the room was a narrow bed with white covers and a single pillow. Light poured in through a lone window which was barred, not unlike Harry's window had been at the Dursley's.

Draco himself was sat cross legged on the bed with his head bowed, tugging at a loose thread at the ankle of his white pyjamas. He didn't look up as Harry sidled into the room and shut the blue door with a gentle thud.

The blond spoke without looking up or moving, sounding bored. "I don't suppose I'm allowed books today? Or is there some ridiculous rule masquerading as protocol that says I'm not allowed anything entertaining whilst I'm stuck in this hole?"

Harry couldn't help but smile weakly. Even if the boy had changed in the two years he had been missing, the voice was exactly how he remembered it; supremely unconcerned with a hint of a drawl.

Harry was quiet for all of a second, weighing up how best to alert Malfoy to his presence. He decided to speak before the blond looked up and saw him. "I can go ask for you if you want."

Draco's head snapped up at the sound of the voice he hadn't been expecting, and upon seeing Harry stood by the door in his hospital room, he leapt off of the bed as if he'd been electrocuted, staggering slightly as he landed badly. His eyes widened and his face grew even paler- something Harry didn't think was possible- as he stared at Harry like he'd turned a corner and come nose to nose with a dragon.

"Why- what the fuck are you doing here?" He stammered, his fists clenching at his sides.

"Malfoy-" Harry began, standing still in what he hoped was a neutral pose.

"Come to gloat?" Draco interrupted, his voice taking on a bitter edge. Harry couldn't help but notice that the hands that were balled into fists were trembling violently.

"No-" Harry began again.

"I'm sure," Draco scoffed. "Wasn't good enough for you to see me in Azkaban, you had to come and get a good laugh at me being locked up in here too-"

"Malfoy!" Harry said loudly and firmly, cutting the blond off mid rant. "I had no idea you were here. I came in for a check up and saw you being…moved. You put up a hell of a fight there, Malfoy."

"Well would you want to be locked in here?" Draco asked bitterly, gesturing to the room with a shaking hand. "They've been looking for an excuse to chuck me in isolation since I got here. Can't have ex-death-eaters mixing with the general public."

"You were acquitted-" Harry said.

"That's not the point- Potter, what are you even _doing_ here?" Draco demanded, sounding frustrated.

"I told you-" Harry began impatiently.

"No, _idiot_. I don't care why you're in the hospital; I want to know why the hell you're in my room."

"I wanted to check you were okay," Harry began but stopped, watching warily as the blond took several slow steps towards him. Harry noticed his feet were bare.

"Do I look _okay_ to you, Potter?" he hissed, stopping a couple of feet away from him. He was glaring at Harry for all he was worth, his eyes blazing with anger and fear.

"Well, yes. You look perfectly healthy so I'm curious as to why you're in here." Harry said gently.

Draco's shoulders suddenly dropped and he looked at the floor. "It's none of your business," he said quietly. Harry was surprised by the sudden change in Draco's demeanour; the venom from his voice was gone, replaced with subdued tones.

Harry watched him cautiously for a long moment, probing his own reaction and feelings towards the blond. He was surprised and somewhat relieved to find no hate there anymore, it having been replaced with curiosity and something he suspected was pity. Draco Malfoy had been a huge part of his life for years and Harry found he didn't want this to be the end of their story. Being locked in an isolation cell in Saint Mungo's didn't seem a fitting conclusion for Draco; least of all when Harry had taken time and effort to have him extricated from Azkaban.

"Look," Harry began, running his hands through his hair as he tried to collect his thoughts. "You probably won't believe me but I'm concerned. You disappeared off of the face of the Earth after your appeal, no-one knew what had happened to you, and then I find you here-"

An incredulous look spread over Draco's face and his shoulders tensed up once more. "Why were you even bothered? We hated each other for seven years, we were never _friends-_"

"I didn't spend all that time and effort getting you out of Azkaban for you to end up here."

Draco froze at Harry's words, his stormy grey eyes locked with Harry's. Slowly, he took another step towards him without breaking their gaze and stopped less than a foot away from him.

When he spoke his voice was soft and dangerous. "Potter, get out and leave me alone. What happens to me is none of your concern, so fuck off."

Harry looked at him for a beat longer before Draco turned away and walked over to the window, his slender fingers looping around the bars.

"I'll come back tomorrow," Harry said quietly. Draco made no acknowledgement of his words so Harry turned back to the blue door and left.

* * *

Against his better judgment, and after spending the whole of the previous evening firmly asserting that he _wouldn't_, Harry found himself stood outside the blue door of Draco's isolation room the next day. Draco Malfoy was none of his concern, was a right royal pain in the arse and always came with a shed-load of trouble- all sound reasons as to why he should keep away...which Harry now chose to completely ignore.

"I've been told to tell you by his Healer, he's not having a good day," said the flustered looking Junior Healer who had accompanied him to Draco's room. He had his wand pointed at the door but hadn't yet unlocked it. "I mean, last night he was in one of his moods and today he's been rather agitated, more than usual, so we-" The Healer paused and Harry raised his eyebrows in question.

"We had to sedate him, Sir. Took two calming draught's _and_ a mild sedation charm for us to be able to do anything with him."

"So he's out of it?" Harry asked, feeling put out that he'd got all the way here and no-one had thought to mention the fact that Malfoy wouldn't be conscious.

"Oh no, he's awake. He's just very groggy, not very lucid. I don't think he knows he's awake right now," the Healer said thoughtfully. "And I've been told to tell you you're free to body-bind him if needed."

"I am not going to curse him," Harry repeated wearily. He'd had an unsettled nights sleep, punctuated by mingled thoughts and dreams of Draco, dementors, Azkaban and hospital corridors. As a result he was tired and definitely not in the mood for arsing about.

The young man seemed to sense this and hastily pointed his wand at the door, unlocking it.

Harry nodded to him in thanks and pushed his way through the blue door, immediately spotting the blond who was curled up on his side like a cat at the end of his bed, his head tucked away in the crook of his elbow.

The door shut with a thud behind him but Draco didn't even move as Harry slowly walked over towards him, unsure of what to do next. Harry sat on the end next to the ball of Slytherin and hesitantly reached out with a hand and gently touched Draco's back, wondering if he was asleep. He wasn't; the blond slowly moved, untucking his head from under his arms and looking up at Harry with a placid expression on his sleepy face.

Harry sat perfectly still, feeling unnerved. Draco's eyes had none of the fight and passion that had haunted Harry's sleep last night and instead were flat and subdued as if there were nothing behind them.

"Hello Potter," the words were quiet and Harry had to bite his lip, finding himself inexplicably feeling saddened at the passive tone that lacked everything that was _Draco_.

"Malfoy," Harry managed to whisper in response.

"You said you'd come back," Draco replied with a thoughtful frown on his face, his eyes blinking slowly and tiredly. "I didn't think you meant it."

"I keep my word," Harry told Draco who turned his head slowly to look out of the window for a long moment. Harry wasn't sure if the silvery gaze was seeing, even if it were looking.

"Oh. I suppose you do. I know that," Draco said quietly and tucked his head back into his arms, curling back up and gently nodding his head sleepily.

"Merlin, what have they done to you?" Harry whispered.

"Sedated me. I'm being difficult. This is two days in a row, you know." the muffled voice said.

"Malfoy, I…" Harry started helplessly. He could deal with Draco Malfoy under many circumstances but this was just…different. Wrong. Harry could argue, fight and shout until the end of time with the Draco with the burning eyes but seeing this quiet, broken version was causing something strange and painful to grip onto Harry's lungs, making it difficult to breathe.

"You shouldn't be here," Harry said.

"I know," Draco agreed dreamily. "I'm not in my right mind apparently. Means I'm not allowed a say in this or discharge myself from here," a confused frown slowly crossed his features once more, causing a cleft to form between his eyebrows. "I don't think Mother knows I'm here. You know calming draughts taste like blackberries?"

"Malfoy…why are you here?" Harry asked gently. He felt a twinge of guilt at asking Draco these questions when he wasn't in his normal state, but he _had_ to know.

"There was a woman. In the bed next to me. Said I was diseased," the confused frown was back again. "I'm not," Draco added. "Potter, I'm not."

"I know," Harry said, disorientated by Draco's constant changing of the subject. The Healer had been right; Harry wasn't sure Draco even knew where he was. "I know you're not diseased. Malfoy, tell me why you're here," Harry repeated softly.

Draco blinked once before speaking. "Because they think I'm going to kill myself."

Harry's jaw dropped. "_What?_" he asked incredulously. "Why would they think that?"

"Because I already tried."

Harry froze, his brain frantically ticking over even as his body went rigid. "You did what?" he asked, his voice shaking.

"I walked into the lake in the Manor grounds," Draco said. He moved, slowly uncurling himself and twisting around, resting his head on Harry's knee and folding his long limbs up again with a sigh. "The house-elves are bound to look after me still, they dragged me out and bought me here."

Harry was dumbstruck, both by the words that were being spoken in such an unperturbed, casual way and the fact Draco was voluntarily touching him, seeking comfort in being close to him.

"But, why would you do that?" Harry asked without thinking, staring down at the blond head that was on his lap.

"Because I have nothing left here. My Mother is dead, my family is gone and I'm a complete coward. You know they won't let me have books anymore? It's stupid."

"Come on, Malfoy," Harry began helplessly.

"No," Draco said sleepily. "No, I'm too tired. You know I can't believe Harry Potter came to visit me."

"I'm Harry Potter, I'm here now," Harry said urgently.

"You think they might let me have books tomorrow?" Draco asked, his voice growing drowsier and his eyes fluttering shut. "Books, or something. I don't know what they did with my wand."

"Malfoy," Harry whispered, shaking the blond gently by the shoulder.

"Potter said he'd come back today," was the reply. The eyes didn't open again.

"I did, I'm here, look," Harry said a little desperately, reaching out and grasping Draco's hand that was resting next to his face on Harry's lap.

The eyes did open slowly again at that, looking slowly up to Harry's face. A weak smile flittered across the pale face.

"Hello Potter. You said you'd come back."

Harry bit his lip again as the blond turned his face away and nuzzled at Harry's leg with his cheek.

"Pansy should visit. Mother would visit, but she's not here. If she was, I wouldn't be here. Father would be so angry. You know who I miss? Loké. Never mind. I've not got anyone to send post to anyway. What's the point in missing an owl? I don't even have a wand."

Draco's voice faded away and Harry knew by the slow deep breaths that the blond had fallen asleep. Harry didn't move straight away, he didn't think he could. Instead he stared down at the blond head that was resting on his knee, completely stunned by everything he had just heard. It was a long time before Harry gently shifted the sleeping man off of his knee, placing the lone pillow under his head before he stole out of the room with one backwards glance and an unheard promise to return as soon as he could.

* * *

Harry didn't go straight home. Instead, he found his feet leading him to the Muggle park near Twelve Grimmauld Place, sitting beneath a willow tree on a worn wooden bench that overlooked the murky pond.

He didn't know how to feel. Draco Malfoy shouldn't be any of his concern; like Draco had said they had never been friends. His common sense told him this; reminding him firstly of all the terrible things Draco had done to him and his friends during their time at Hogwarts and secondly of the path Draco had chosen; to follow his father and become a Death Eater. Harry knew full well that under the sleeve of those white pyjama's lurked a Dark Mark, but even that couldn't convince Harry that he should leave the git where he was and be done with it.

And suicide…Harry's initial reaction was to call anyone who tried it a coward, just as Draco had called himself. You weren't supposed to run away from problems; you were meant to fight through them and work it out, weren't you? He couldn't understand it; he'd never contemplate that, no matter how bad it got- he didn't think, anyway. He and Draco were different though, and he knew that well. And besides, he'd had plenty of experience with Draco being a coward…

But to be so scared and feel so helpless that you'd rather die than see another day through? Did that really make him a coward? Or just someone who needed some help, and something to live for?

His common sense was losing the battle, and fast. As Harry gazed out over the pond he shuddered at the thought of Draco walking into the water with the intent of ending his life. Harry had saved Draco's life during the final battle and saved him from Azkaban, and as much as everyone would undoubtedly try and convince him he should feel otherwise he felt responsible for the Slytherin, especially now Draco was alone with no family of friends to call his own.

And if Draco died all Harry's work at getting him out of Azkaban would have been for nothing. Harry knew that was a selfish way of looking at it, but it was important nonetheless. It _had_ taken a lot of effort, time and Galleons to get Draco out of Azkaban, not to mention a couple of angry rants and threats which had somewhat lessened Harry's standing within the Ministry. Few of them could understand why the Chosen One was working so hard to have his ex-rival exonerated and Harry had lost his temper with those who had loudly voiced this opinion on more than one occasion.

Harry suspected it was the same driving force inside him now; just as he couldn't really explain why he hadn't wanted to see Draco locked up in Azkaban, other than he felt he didn't deserve it, he didn't want Draco to be locked up in Saint Mungo's either.

Seeing Draco in the state he had been whilst sedated had also had a profound effect on Harry. Previously, Harry had only ever seen the blond as the snarky, foul, pure-blood Slytherin. Now, Harry was beginning to think that maybe there was more to Draco Malfoy that he had originally been willing to see.

Harry stood up, kicking a stray pebble into the water and watching the ripples it caused ebbing across the still water. He had made his mind up. He didn't have to be Draco's friend or even like him, as long as the bastard got through this unscathed.


	3. A difference of opinion

**Chapter 3: A difference of opinion**

"Harry? You home?"

A voice calling through from the hallway shook Harry out of his thoughts as he sat at his kitchen table, nursing a mug of tea in his hands. Crap. Ginny. Even if he didn't want to tell anyone about Malfoy yet, she was bound to know something was bothering him, and would badger him until he caved and told. He didn't normally hesitate about sharing with her, but he honestly didn't know how she would react to the news that Draco Malfoy had resurfaced into the land of the living, and that Harry wanted to help him.

"Yeah, in the kitchen," Harry shouted back with a smile on his face at the prospect of seeing his other half, despite his worried thoughts.

Ginny came into the kitchen, dropping a hefty stack of parchment and files onto the table with a thud that caused ripples to form across the surface of Harry's drink. She brushed her long hair impatiently out of her face and then frowned at Harry.

"What's up with you? You look terrible."

Harry chuckled, rubbing his face as Ginny walked over to him to squeeze his shoulders gently and kiss him on the top of his head before going to make herself a drink.

"Had a rough day," Harry admitted.

"Why? Where've you been?" Ginny asked with her back to him. "You didn't have training today did you?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I told you we're not back in until tomorrow. Goal hoops are being replaced."

"Oh yeah," Ginny said, wrinkling her nose as she sat beside him with a mug of tea of her own. "I forgot."

"You know we should probably make more of an effort to actually know where each other are?" Harry said wryly.

Ginny reached across the table to snatch a biscuit from the plate in front of Harry. He absent-mindedly pushed it towards her knowing she wouldn't stop with just the one. "Nah," she said, eyeing the biscuit with satisfaction before biting it in half. "We both know we'll end up back here at some point, right? So not a problem."

Harry laughed, taking a biscuit for himself. It was true; neither of them saw it as a problem. Admittedly, it had occurred to Harry it had been a little strange when he had gone to Ireland for a Quidditch match for three days, and had somehow forgotten to tell his girlfriend that he was leaving the country. And even stranger was that not a fortnight after that incident, he had suddenly realised he hadn't seen or heard from Ginny in four days, only to be told by a bewildered and reproachful Hermione that Ginny had been sent by Gringott's on a curse-breaking expedition to Cairo.

"Hermione says it's not healthy for a relationship to be like this," Harry mused.

"Hermione is married to Ron. That's not healthy full-stop," Ginny replied and they both shot each other guilty grins. "So, what's up?" she asked him simply.

Harry watched her industrious process of dunking biscuits into her tea, his eyes not looking to her face. "You know I went for a check up yesterday?" he asked carefully.

Her brown eyes looked up at him in alarm. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no, I'm fine," Harry said quickly. "I'd show you the form but I had to owl it to your Mum, you know how she gets. No, I bumped into someone whilst I was there."

"Someone?" Ginny asked with eyebrows raised, in a tone that clearly invited Harry to get to the point.

"Yeah. Draco Malfoy."

Ginny choked on her mouthful of biscuit and Harry hastily pointed his wand at her, clearing her airway with a muttered charm.

"Draco Malfoy?" Ginny coughed, massaging her chest, her wide brown eyes on Harry. "_Really?_ He's been MIA for…two years? Why was he there? What's happened to him?"

"He tried to drown himself," Harry told her with preamble.

She looked at him intently for a moment. "Really?"

"Yeah. He's locked in isolation and sedated up to his eyeballs. He was completely out of it today…" Harry trailed off, shaking his head.

"Oh," Ginny said simply, reaching for another biscuit. "Shame."

Harry stared at her, feeling a little incredulous. "What? Is that it?"

"What else do you want me to say?" Ginny asked with a shrug and a small frown. "He's not a part of our life, it's not like it affects us."

"Ginny, are you serious?" Harry asked, watching her in amazement. "He nearly _died_, if someone doesn't do something…he's not in his right mind. He's going to end up dead."

"I don't see why that's any concern of yours though," Ginny said, running her finger along the rim of her mug.

Harry opened his mouth but promptly shut it again. Ginny was right, in a way. Technically, Draco was no concern of his, but his brain hadn't been listening to minor things like technicalities for the past two days and wasn't about to start now.

"I know," he said carefully. "But I feel responsible for him."

"Don't," Ginny said, getting off of her chair and moving across to sit sideways on Harry's lap, her arms looped loosely around his neck.

"Ginny-" Harry began helplessly.

"No," she said firmly, kissing his temple. "Look I understand you wanting to get him out of Azkaban but this was his choice, right? You saved him – again – and now it's up to him what he does with it. If he wants to throw himself into Saint Mungo's, that's-"

"They're treating him like scum in there."

"He is scum," Ginny offered helpfully.

"_Ginny,_" Harry said and saw her roll her eyes. "Look, he's not just the same twat from school. You should have seen him today. He was so spaced out, he kept talking about his Mother, and his old friends and asking me when I was coming back. Yesterday he seemed more normal, he was angry and shouted at me, but today…"

Harry felt Ginny tense on his knee. "You've…you've been back to see him? Twice?" she asked carefully.

"Well, I bumped into him yesterday when I went in, and today…yeah I went back to see him today," Harry admitted. "I said I would."

"Why?" Ginny asked, sitting perfectly still.

"I don't know, Gin," he sighed. "It's the same as the Azkaban appeal. I can't just leave him there."

"You can!" Ginny said quietly but fiercely. "He's not your problem! Have you forgotten all the terrible things he did to you, did to everyone?"

"No," Harry said quietly.

"Harry, don't go back," Ginny said gently to him. "This isn't your problem and he's just going to upset you. You did right by him, but now it's up to him. Please don't go back."

Harry didn't reply. He could understand perfectly well where Ginny was coming from; he had been through all of the same arguments himself. But regardless of logic or sound reasoning, there was _something _that meant he was going to ignore her anyway.

"You want to go out?" Ginny asked, gently kissing him behind his ear. "I've got some things I need to get from Diagon Alley."

"No. Not in the mood to be photographed today," Harry said shortly.

"Fine, have it your way," Ginny said without malice, sliding off of his knee and picking up a biscuit to take with her. "I'll see you here tonight, yes?"

"Yeah, sure." Harry replied and then she was gone, giving him a brief kiss before disappearing through the door without a backwards glance.

Harry waited until he heard the front door shut before leaping up and grabbing a handful of floo powder out of the jar on the mantelpiece. Ginny hadn't made him feel better about the Malfoy situation and now he was frustrated with her as well as himself.

"Lady Bay Cottage," Harry said clearly, dropping the powder into the grate and kneeling down in front of the green flames that had erupted. Five seconds passed before a freckled face swam into view, looking thoroughly excited.

"Harry! Perfect timing mate! Come over, Hermione's gone out so I've ordered pizza!"

Harry gave his best friend a grin as the face disappeared without further explanation and then he climbed to his feet, bracing himself before stepping through the floo.

He tripped over himself climbing out of the fireplace in Ron and Hermione's sitting room, and heard Ron snort with laughter from where he was sat on the sofa with an open pizza box balanced precariously on his knee and a slice already in his hand.

"Shut up," Harry said good-naturedly, brushing himself off and walking over to collapse on the sofa next to Ron.

Harry didn't hang about, reaching for the pizza box and taking himself a slice out, setting the box back on Ron's knee. "Guess who I saw yesterday?"

Ron immediately perked up, looking intrigued. "No idea, who?"

"Draco Malfoy."

Ron's jaw dropped, his slice of pizza held inches away from his mouth. He stared at Harry for a long moment, hoping for a contradiction or admittance of a joke but Harry gave neither.

"He was in Saint Mungo's when I went for my check up." Harry continued, taking a hefty bite of his own slice.

"Is he sick?" Ron asked hopefully.

Harry elbowed him in the side and swallowed his mouthful. "Yeah. Yeah he is," he said, giving Ron a brief glance.

There was a pause and Ron lowered the slice of pizza away from his face. "Really sick?" he asked and Harry was pleased to notice the hopeful tone had disappeared.

"Well…yeah. He's not right. He…he tried to kill himself," Harry said, not able to meet Ron's gaze as he said it.

Ron froze again, staring at Harry with a disbelieving expression on his face. "No way," he said, shaking his head. "Why the hell would he do that?"

"His life has gone to shit from what I can make out," Harry said heavily. "His entire family is wasted, all his friends are in Azkaban, or have moved away, or don't talk to him anymore from what I've heard."

"Can't have done him any good being in Azkaban either," Ron said soberly. "All the drama with the appeal, too."

Harry shuddered. "No. And it's not like he got off easily during the war…I mean Voldemort lived in his _house_. Imagine having that near you every day, all the stuff he must have seen…"

"And the Dumbledore thing," Ron added, quickly looking at Harry to check he wouldn't react badly to the reminder of Dumbledore's death. He needed have worried; Harry could easily discuss Dumbledore now the war had ended, often in fond or joking tones. Harry nodded to show he heard and agreed but didn't reply, silence falling as they chewed their food and both reflected on the predicament Malfoy had ended up in.

"What are you going to do?" Ron broke the silence and Harry immediately felt relief flood through him. Of course Ron would understand. Well, even if he didn't understand he would respect Harry's decision. It had been the same with the Azkaban appeal; Ginny had been furious about it and Ron had unexpectedly come to Harry's rescue, telling her that even if it was crazy, it was something Harry wanted to do so she should let him get on with it and shut the hell up.

"I don't know," Harry said. "I saw him yesterday and he told me to fuck off, but today he was sedated up to his eyeballs and talking nonsense."

"Calming draughts?" Ron asked and winced as Harry nodded. "Mum made George take them after Fred died and it was the same to him, he just floated about talking about nothing."

"You think I should help him?" Harry asked carefully, examining the crust of his pizza as if it were remarkably interesting.

Ron snorted next to him. "I think you're going to do what you want, as usual," he paused, a pained expression crossing his face. "We're not going to have to be friends with him are we?"

Harry laughed. "No, nothing like that! I just don't want him to die, you know? I don't want anyone to die."

"No, he doesn't deserve that," Ron agreed. Harry felt a surge of affection and pride for his best friend, whose input to the conversation was a testament to how much he had grown up in the past two years.

"There's a slight problem though," Harry said, finishing his pizza and reaching for another slice.

"Ginny," Ron said, turning his attention to his own uneaten piece. Harry eyed him suspiciously.

"You're getting too like Hermione for your own good," he said, half in irritation and half in admiration.

Ron glanced over his shoulder despite knowing Hermione wasn't in. "Well, you know it pays off to play stupid sometimes," he told Harry conspiratorially, with a sparkle in his eye. "Like Hermione thinks I have no idea what her and Ginny are talking about when they gossip. I do," he said, giving a self-satisfied nod. "But if I pretend I don't, they assume I'm ignorant and then I can know the gossip without having to offer any comments."

Harry started to laugh and Ron grinned, continuing. "And acting stupid is perfect insurance. Like so when I do manage to majorly cock something up I just have to look confused, then she does that sighing thing and fixes it."

"You are good," Harry said through his laughter, clapping his friend on the shoulder with his free hand.

"I know. So- Ginny?" Ron prompted as Harry's laughter subsided.

"Oh yeah. Ginny. Doesn't want me to have anything to do with Malfoy," Harry filled in.

"Figures. She was barmy enough about the Azkaban thing," Ron said with a shrug.

"Ron…don't mind me asking, but why didn't you go barmy about the Azkaban thing? And this now…you can't think this is a good idea," Harry said warily.

"No, I don't. I think Malfoy is a _prat, _but…" Ron paused. "You rescued him in the room of requirement. I mean, you saved his life- doing something like that…it connects people. Even if you hate him, I don't think you're going to be happy unless he's okay because of that."

"Exactly!" Harry said triumphantly. "Ginny said I shouldn't feel responsible for him but I can't help it. Ron, you are amazing."

Ron gave a yawn and stretched out, putting his hands behind his head and giving a satisfied nod. "Yes, I know. Don't let it go to your head."


	4. Imperfect save

**Chapter 4: Imperfect save**

The Healers didn't even ask Harry why he was there when he went back to see Draco late on Wednesday afternoon. He was just shown in and led to the blue door by the same Junior Healer who had let him in last time, although today the man looked exhausted.

"He's not happy," he said without preamble. "And he's refusing to take calming draughts. Have your wand out."

"What?" Harry asked, eyeing the blue door with some trepidation. It had been four days since he had seen Draco in his sedated state and between training and spending some time with Ginny he hadn't been able to come and check on Draco sooner. He had worried, panicking late at night about what would happen if he were too late, but his rational brain told him that even if Draco wanted to, he couldn't really do himself any harm under the careful watch of the Healers.

This afternoon however, Harry had received his window of opportunity. Ginny had been called to a castle in Scotland that had been inherited by a wealthy wizard, who upon trying to access the vaults under the castle foundations, had found both his arms promptly vanished and called in the curse-breakers. The minute she had stepped through the floo Harry had fled the house, taking all his self-restraint not to sprint to Saint Mungo's.

The Healers tired voice bought Harry back to the present. "He was on best behaviour for days after your last visit. We thought he was making progress but this morning…" the Healer trailed off, shaking his head. "Wand out, Sir."

"I don't think there's-" Harry began.

"He's already in trouble for lashing out at staff today," the Healer said bluntly. "Wand out or you're not going in."

Harry sighed, pulling his wand out of his pocket as the Healer unlocked the door, gesturing for Harry to stay where he was before pulling the door open and stepping in first. Harry heard the Healer cast a summoning charm and a shout of rage came from within as the Healer stepped out of the room with a heavy book in his hand.

"I wouldn't put it past him to throw it," the Healer said unapologetically. "He can have it back when you're gone."

Harry nodded and stepped into the room, his wand held loosely in his hand down at his side. Draco was stood facing him looking absolutely livid, but Harry wasn't intimidated. Far from it- he was delighted to see the life back in Draco's eyes and opened his mouth to say so when Draco spoke - or shouted - first.

"Get out."

"What?" Harry asked, confused.

"Get out Potter! GET OUT!"

"What, why?" Harry was bewildered. "You wanted me to come back-"

"You-" Draco pointed an accusing finger at Harry, his whole body trembling in rage. "-came in here talking to me when I wasn't in my right mind. That was fucking low, Potter, even for you."

"I wanted to know what was wrong with you-" Harry said, standing his ground.

"It's none of your business!" Draco yelled.

"Malfoy, I know now. Throwing me out isn't going to change that," Harry said reasonably.

"I didn't want you to know!" Malfoy ran his hands through his short hair, ruffling it and making him look even more agitated. "Have you any idea how mortifying it was to realise I said all that stuff, and to _you?_ I just want you to leave me _alone."_

Harry stood his ground. "I'm not going to do that, if I leave you alone you're probably going to do something stupid-"

"So?" Draco's shout rang in the air, echoing in the silence that followed.

"Don't you get it, _I don't care_." Draco said, breathing heavily. "I want out, Potter, but all thanks to a fucking bunch of interfering fucking house elves I am now stuck. There is no way of me doing _anything_ in here but the longer I'm in here the more I'm convinced I want out. I'm stuck. Stuck between a rock and a crazy place."

"I can help," Harry said quietly.

Draco gave a humourless laugh. "Again. Potter, I'm sick of owing my life to you."

"It's better owing your life to me than not having a life," Harry began.

"No it's not! I don't want to owe anyone, least of all you!" Draco shouted. "So either make yourself useful and use that wand to point a killing curse at me or fuck off and leave me alone!"

Harry began to lose his temper. "You think your Mother would be happy to know you're like this? After everything she-"

The rest of the sentence never made it out of his mouth as Draco flew at him in a spitting rage, one fist connecting with Harry's lip and the other with his shoulder. The scuffle was brief; Draco may have been furious and wanting to hurt Harry as much as he could but he was weak, borderline malnourished, suffering the effects of being sedated on a regular basis, and Harry was a professional Quidditch player who soon had Draco pinned to the floor on his front with his hands behind his back.

"Stop it. I'm trying to help you," Harry said angrily. Internally, he was shocked but not a little impressed, in a very convoluted sort of way; old-Draco would never have had the guts to throw a punch in Harry's direction.

"I don't want your help, I want you to leave me alone to die in peace," Draco panted, trying to throw off Harry's grip.

Harry gave Draco a rough shake. "_Stop _it. Just stop. I don't want you to die, you great fucking idiot."

"How selfish of you," Draco said moodily. "I really don't see why I should give a fuck that my dying would put a mark on your record of perfect saves."

Harry spluttered. "You think that's it? That _that's_ why I'm doing this?" He asked, amazed.

"Of course."

Harry stood up, letting go of Draco completely. The blond quirked his head up at him, looking at him suspiciously before sitting up and leaning against the wall, his bare feet tucked in towards him.

"I'm doing this because you don't deserve to die," Harry said shortly, wiping his lip with the back of his hand, unsurprised to see a streak of crimson marking the skin. "Right. I'm going to go before I get any more frustrated with you. Just, please think about this Malfoy, _please._ I'll come back soon, just _don't_…."

Harry gave up and shook his head, unable to find the words. The grey eyes watched him intently as he left through the blue door, dabbing at his lip with his sleeve and shaking his head at the Healer who made to come towards him, looking alarmed.

"It's okay- my fault. He's alright, I probably deserved it," Harry said without further explanation, walking off hurriedly as the Healer gave the door a miserable look and went inside to check Malfoy was still in one piece.

* * *

"Harry!"

Harry was walking across the foyer of Saint Mungo's with his head down, trying to avoid anyone's gaze, when he heard a familiar voice calling his name. He whipped round in relief to see Hermione Granger walking towards him, looking concerned.

"What happened to you?" she asked, gesturing to his lip.

"Erm…I got punched," Harry said, his brain not working quickly enough to think of a plausible excuse.

"Let me guess. By Draco Malfoy," Hermione said, a smile twitching her lips.

Harry opened his mouth to furiously deny everything but then remembered exactly who he was talking to. "Ron told you, I take it?" He asked heavily.

"Yes. I'm surprised you've come back though," Hermione said reproachfully. "Especially if Ginny asked you not to."

"Hermione…" Harry began but stopped, aware that a medi-witch was staring at them avidly over the top of her clipboard. "Can we discuss this somewhere else if you're not busy?" he asked and she nodded.

"Yes, I'm all done here, just had to drop off some paperwork," Hermione said with a nod. "They requested a new batch of potions, the Healers said they're working really well," Hermione said, sounding pleased. She worked for a independent potions development team who specialised in medical treatments and this often bought her in and out of Saint Mungo's on business and deliveries.

"Can we apparate?" Harry asked. "I'm not in the mood for being gawked at today."

"Yes, sure," Hermione said and they walked to the apparition point side by side. He grabbed hold of Hermione's arm, preferring to let her be the one to take the lead as his thoughts were distracted somewhat by the throbbing in his lip and thoughts about the person who had caused it. He took a deep breath and held it before there was a pop and they were wrenched away.

They appeared in the back of a bar that Harry recognised as the Sphinx and Dragon; a quiet place that was at the opposite end of Diagon Alley to the Leaky Cauldron, and was as a result much quieter. He and Ron had been in here on a couple of occasions for drinks, but never during the day. The place always appealed to Harry in particular: it was a rickety, old building that had been put together over many years by different owners and builders. As a result, it was full of uneven floors, alcoves, stairwells, nooks and crannies; perfect places to sit in and remain unseen. Hermione led the way up a couple of steps and past a set of large vertical wooden beams to a small booth right at the back. Harry gratefully slid in, leaning back against the worn leather, shutting his eyes as Hermione went to fetch drinks.

"I ordered us some food, too," Hermione's voice said a few minutes later. "You look hungry. And tired. Hold still."

Harry snapped his eyes open just to see Hermione jab her wand in his direction, and he felt his lip heal over, although it remained feeling tender and swollen.

"Thanks," he said, rubbing at it gingerly.

Hermione slid a butterbeer across the surface of the table towards him. "So," she began. "Draco Malfoy has reappeared."

Harry nodded, feeling exhausted. Apparating always drained him, and that was on top of a morning of Quidditch training and a fight with Draco, not to mention a week of restless nights.

"Ron told me why he was in the hospital," Hermione said, looking down at her own drink. "It's awful."

"I know," Harry said, nodding slowly. "I hate to see him in there. It just doesn't feel right, you know?"

"I also spoke to Ginny about it," Hermione continued, leaving his question unanswered. "She's under the impression you weren't going to go back."

"I never _agreed _to that. She just asked me not to," Harry said, nettled.

"Why would you though? I think Ginny is right," Hermione pressed, picking up her drink but then putting it back down again. "He's not your responsibility, Harry."

"Ron thinks I'm doing the right thing," Harry replied stubbornly. Hermione raised an eyebrow. "He does," Harry insisted.

"Ronald Weasley thinks that getting Malfoy involved in our lives is the right thing?" Hermione said slowly.

Harry sighed, taking a deep mouthful of butterbeer. "No, that's not…he's not going to be involved, I just want him to be okay. I don't want anyone else to die, not if I can do something about it."

Hermione nodded, apparently seeing some merit in Harry's words. "You need to talk to Ginny about this," she said softly. "You know she'll be furious if she doesn't hear it from you."

"So, hang on, you're not telling me to not see Malfoy?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowed.

"No. You'll do what you want whatever we say. You normally do," Hermione said, giving him a smile that quickly faded as she sipped her own drink. Harry waited, knowing she would say more.

"I just don't think you're being fair on Ginny," Hermione said quietly. "You know how hard it was for her to see you involved with Malfoy's appeal, especially after what his Father did with the diary."

"I have to do this, 'Mione. I don't know why," Harry said, willing her to understand.

There was a pause. "You know what I've always said about you and Ginny…" Hermione began.

Harry groaned, covering his hands with his face. "Not today, please. I'm shattered, I've been punched in the face by Draco sodding Malfoy, I really don't want to have to think about anything else at all, especially me and Ginny."

Hermione didn't reply, but gave him a small, sad smile which he couldn't quite comprehend. Their food arrived and Hermione thankfully changed the conversation away from anything with red or blond hair and into decidedly more neutral territory.

So, two out of three of his closest friends agreed he should help Draco. Well, agreeing was a strong word for it, but they weren't discouraging him which strengthened Harry's resolve to help the Slytherin, even if said Slytherin didn't want him to right now.


	5. Window of opportunity

**Chapter 5: Window of opportunity**

It was a full day and a half before Harry had the chance to act on Hermione's advice and speak to Ginny again, due to the fact she shared her time between sometimes staying with Harry at Grimmauld Place and sometimes staying at The Burrow. That arrangement suited Harry just fine; he found he never really noticed if she were there or not. Granted, he _liked_ having her to share his bed with, really, it was just that he didn't really notice if she wasn't there. Just another quirk of their independent natures and laid back relationship- something Hermione would undoubtedly liken to a problem. Hermione was wrong; it wasn't making Harry unhappy, so it wasn't a problem.

They were lounging on the sofa watching television (something Harry had found he couldn't live without- it was too quiet otherwise) and it was quiet, dark and comfortable; the only light in the room coming from the flickering of the television screen. They had been there for quite some time when Harry finally decided to bite the bullet and open his mouth to tell her. It didn't go well.

"I went back to Saint Mungo's the other day," he said, without looking away from the screen which he hadn't been paying full attention to for some time. Ginny was laid along next to him with her head was resting on his chest, and he felt her tense a little at his words but she didn't move to look up a him.

"You said you wouldn't," she replied, sounding a bit put out.

"No, I never said I wouldn't, you just asked if I wouldn't," Harry corrected.

Ginny slowly looked up. "And isn't that enough?" she asked carefully.

"Gin, this isn't about you," Harry told her honestly. "If I don't help him, I'm worried he's going to die."

Ginny settled herself back against Harry. "Good," she said forcefully.

Harry himself sat up quickly, dislodging her from her position and making her scowl at him. "No, it's not _good_," he said in a disbelieving tone. "He could _die_."

"And? If he wants to, let him," Ginny said flippantly. "It's his choice."

"How can you not care if someone dies? After everything that happened?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"Because it's _Malfoy_," Ginny said, Harry sensing that she was trying to keep her voice under control and not shout. "He's evil, pure evil and he does nothing but ruin everything for everyone!"

"Ginny, steady on-" Harry said.

She got to her feet, her hands balling into fists. "No! No, have you forgotten what his Dad did to me?"

"No I haven't- but he's not his Dad-"

Ginny gave a mirthless laugh. "They're exactly the same person, Harry, right down to the matching Dark Marks."

"Stop it," Harry said quietly, rubbing his face with his hands. "Ginny, come on." He held out a hand as a peace offering and was relieved when she narrowed her eyes slightly but took it, sitting back down beside him.

"I know this is going to be hard on you but I need to do this. I don't really know why…Ron managed to explain it better than I could," Harry admitted. "Something…because I saved his life and got involved at the trial, I'm not going to be able to be happy unless I know he's okay."

"You just keep on giving," Ginny said in a flat voice that Harry didn't know how to react to.

She turned big brown eyes on him with a sigh. "Fine. Do this, but I can't be about whilst you're doing it. I don't want to…I can't face hearing that name." She leant over to kiss Harry gently before standing up.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked, not getting up.

"To Ron and Hermione's. Let me know when Malfoy's out of our life, or when he's dead."

Harry gaped at her as she walked slowly out of the room, not believing that those words had come out of her mouth. How could she care so little about whether a fellow human being died? Even if it _were_ Malfoy. Harry felt something akin to unhappiness settling in his stomach. He had noticed on occasions that Ginny just wasn't as mature as him, having only just come out of Hogwarts and not having the same weight from the war on her shoulders. True, she was more mature than most witches her age, which Harry was infinitely thankful for, but still they weren't on even footing and this Malfoy situation was making the gap wider and wider.

* * *

"Harry James Potter!"

Harry whipped around with a strangled cry, instinctively raising his Firebolt up above his shoulders before seeing a cross looking Hermione Granger stood in his kitchen doorway.

"Harry Potter, were you about to hit me with your broomstick?" Hermione asked disbelievingly.

"No! No of course not-" Harry began. Hermione gave him a _look _and he realised he was still holding his broom aloft. He lowered it sheepishly. "You scared me, is all. How the hell did you get in? The floo's not unlocked itself again has it?"

"No, Ginny gave me her key. You upset her," Hermione said, marching into the kitchen, pushing Harry down onto a chair and going over to make tea.

Harry had to grin. He would never admit it but he loved Hermione's way of dealing with things; straight in, guns blazing, taking no prisoners. It was brutal, but it saved considerable amount of time and misunderstandings. You couldn't misunderstand when Hermione was as blunt as she was.

"Hermione, as much as I appreciate the completely unannounced visit when I've only just got back from training, can I go change please?" Harry asked. He was indeed still in his Quidditch gear and splattered with mud.

Hermione turned around and gave him a brief two fingered salute and Harry had to stifle a laugh. It looked like Ron was also having a considerable influence on Hermione, not just the other way round.

A minute later and Hermione placed Harry's tea and her coffee on the table, sliding onto the chair next to him. Harry absent-mindedly wondered if things would continue this way; a carousel of him talking to his friends separately about the same thing.

"You are still insisting on helping Malfoy?" Hermione asked without any preamble.

"Yep."

"And you don't think this is a stupid idea?" she asked.

"Nope."

"And you don't care that you're upsetting Ginny?" Hermione's eyes narrowed and Harry had the common sense to bite down on the defiant _no _that almost slipped from his tongue.

"She's…she's being horrible about it," Harry said. Hermione didn't speak and Harry took that as a good sign to continue. "She said something…like I should only contact her when Malfoy's dead."

Hermione's eyebrows flew up and Harry resisted the urge to be smug, choosing to take a victory sip of his tea. Turns out Hermione wasn't completely in the know, after all.

Harry continued, "And I told her that he might die and she said 'good.'"

"She wouldn't-" Hermione began but faltered. "Harry, look I'm worried about you and Ginny. You two are…well you know what I think. And this Malfoy situation is not going to end well for the two of you."

"Me and Ginny are fine," Harry said impatiently. "And will be when I've sorted Malfoy out."

"Can't you get someone else to do it?" Hermione asked a little desperately.

"No. I want to do it," Harry replied stubbornly.

"Harry, please," Hermione began but Harry shook his head.

"You know that I have to do this and I thought you understood. Please don't let Ginny change your mind. I need your support on this," Harry said, reaching out to take Hermione's hand across the table.

"You risk losing Ginny if you continue down this route," she said quietly. "She's more upset and angry about this Malfoy thing than she's letting on, and she's going to dwell on it and-"

"We'll be fine," Harry said dismissively.

Hermione looked at him for a long moment, then down at their hands that were still joined across the table. Harry saw the same small sad smile from the other day cross her face and then it disappeared, only to be replaced with a set and resolute expression. That look made Harry a little wary; it was one that he hadn't seen since Hogwarts- the dangerous look associated with exam revision.

"Okay. I think you should go visit him today," she said briskly, letting go of Harry's hand and reaching for her coffee.

"I told you- hang on, what?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"Go see him today," Hermione repeated. "I'm done with trying to help you and Ginny here because you quite clearly don't want me to, so I'm pretending Ginny doesn't exist and am telling you what _I_ think you should do. Go visit him. See if he's still angry at you."

Harry smiled at her and she gave him a tired smile back. "I don't really want to be punched again though…" he said, rubbing his now fully healed lip regretfully.

"I think he was just mad because he's told you all that stuff without realising it," Hermione said rationally. "Imagine if you were in there and Malfoy was the one to find you."

"I'd think _anyone but him_," Harry snorted. "Okay, fair point. So why should I go today? I was going to wait for another couple of days, try not to overwhelm him."

"You're his only visitor," Hermione said quietly. "He'll hate you for it, but he's probably waiting for you to come back. And the longer you leave it, the angrier he's going to get with himself and then you."

Harry looked at her doubtfully. "He's waiting for me? He told me to fuck off, he told me to…" he swallowed thickly. "Right. I'll go this afternoon."

"Let me and Ron know how it goes?" Hermione asked, reaching over and giving his hand a quick squeeze.

"I will, promise."

* * *

Harry knew something was wrong the moment he turned the corner onto the corridor of isolation rooms. The blue door was open and he could hear shouting and cursing coming from within Draco's room, and two Healers were stood outside with wands directed in.

"Hey!" Harry called, quickening his pace along the corridor and breaking into a run. "What's going on?"

He barrelled past the Healers despite their ineffectual protests, and pushed into Draco's room, giving a shout of rage as he saw what was happening.

Draco had been bound to his bed with conjured ropes and a couple of Healers were attempting to force feed him a calming draught. The attempt wasn't being particularly successful; Draco was still putting up a fight despite being tied to the bed, thrashing violently and keeping up a steady tirade of four letter words that showed everyone _exactly_ what he thought of this situation.

"Hey, what're you doing?" Harry shouted. The Healers whipped around, eyes doing the flick to his scar and back again.

"Mr Potter-"

"Sir-"

"Sir, there's nothing for it- he needs sedating," one of the Healers from outside said, edging in round the door. "He won't let us treat him and he's refusing to eat-"

Harry turned his gaze to Draco, his eyes locking on his and raising his eyebrows just slightly, enough for Draco to notice. Draco fell silent at once, giving a barely detectable nod.

"Don't sedate him. I want to talk to him," Harry said, using the same commanding tone he had at Draco's appeal. "Leave us alone, please."

The Healers all looked at each other and then at Harry.

"Sir, we couldn't possibly, he's dangerous…" one began.

"He's tied to his bed and I've got a wand. The most he can do is shout at me, and believe me, I'm really not going to be hurt by that."

The Healer who had objected swallowed and looked to her colleagues for back up. She got nothing but blank looks and resolute stares in the opposite direction so threw her hands in the air in a gesture of frustration and acceptance, walking to the door, leaving the calming draught on the window ledge.

"If you can get him to take that it would be greatly appreciated, Mr Potter."

Harry gave a nod in reply and waited until the Healers had followed her out and shut the door before he leapt forwards and set about untying the ropes that crossed Draco's shoulders, chest, waist and legs.

"You forgot your white horse, Potter," Draco coughed, pulling his arms free with difficulty as Harry untied his shoulders.

"I left him outside. They don't let animals inside the hospital," Harry said seriously, concentrating on untying the knots that had been pulled tight by Draco's struggling. Draco's eyes flickered in amusement for a brief moment.

"I thought I told you never to come back," he said hoarsely, watching Harry's nimble fingers on the knots.

"Tough," Harry replied and Draco fell silent again.

"Have you really been refusing to eat?" Harry asked, working on the last knot.

"Shut up."

Harry managed to undo the ropes down to Draco's thighs and then Draco pulled himself free, sitting on the edge of the bed quietly and rubbing his chest where the ropes had been.

"Thank you."

The words were so quiet that Harry almost didn't hear them. "You're welcome."

Silence fell again, broken only by the soft squeak of the bed as Harry swung his legs back and forth.

"Did you think about it? About what I said?" Harry asked after it became clear Draco wasn't going to say anything.

"Yes," Draco said. "But I can't help you, Potter."

"This isn't about you helping me, it's me helping you," Harry said, exasperated. "Why won't you let me?"

"I don't trust you," Draco said immediately.

"Why not? I haven't done anything lately to make me untrustworthy-" Harry began.

"No, it's not you, Potter," Draco said quietly. "I don't trust anyone."

"Why not?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," Draco said. Neither spoke again for a while but the silence wasn't uncomfortable. Harry saw Draco eyeing the bottle on the window ledge and knew that the blond was feeling grateful that Harry had stopped the Healers sedating him.

"Do they do that often?" Harry asked quietly.

"As often as they can get away with it," Draco muttered. "I hate it. I wouldn't get so angry if they didn't try and do it for no reason…"

"I didn't like seeing you like that," Harry admitted. "You weren't you."

"And you still butted in and asked me a load of questions," Draco said, raising an eyebrow.

"Honestly, I didn't really have to ask any questions. You just kept on talking."

"Well then you should have left-" Draco bristled.

"It's done now, Malfoy," Harry said, looking at him and jumping a little to see the blond staring intently at him.

"Why do you keep coming back?" Draco asked him, all of a sudden sounding a little urgent. "You're making it so hard to want to…" He stopped suddenly, clamping his mouth firmly shut and looking away from Harry, his fingers tightening on the edge of the bed so his knuckles turned white.

"What?" Harry asked, his heart leaping. A window.

"Nothing," Draco said quickly.

"No, Malfoy, tell me," Harry persisted.

Malfoy stood up, walking over to the window and resting his forehead on the bars. "Potter, please just go," he said, surprising Harry a little with his open and unabashed pleading. "Please, just leave."

Harry stood up and walked slowly over to Draco, reaching out and putting a hand on the Draco's shoulder, who immediately slinked out from under his touch, stepping smartly to the right.

"I'll come back tomorrow," Harry said.

"Don't, please just stop saying that!" Draco said, rounding on Harry and sounding angry for the first time since he'd stopped swearing at the Healers. "Just, tell me you won't come back."

"I'm not going to do that," Harry replied evenly.

"I hate you," Draco spat. "You're a pathetic false hero who gets off on saving people. Too bad you couldn't save your Godfather, or the Weasel Twin, or-"

Harry felt a surge of rage but then noticed that Draco's eyes were bright with what looked like tears and his chin was wobbling as he bit his lip hard enough to leave marks. Draco was trying to make him leave. Even in desperate times he was still as sneaky a Slytherin as ever.

"That isn't going to work," Harry said casually, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Nothing you say can make me stop coming here."

Draco eyed him for a beat longer with wide eyes and then flung himself into the corner of his room, sinking to the hard floor as bitter sobs escaped his body, making his shoulders shake.

Harry took an alarmed step towards him, wanting to go and comfort him, but he stopped himself. He suspected that Draco would _not_ react well to any more physical contact, and to be completely honest, he was rubbish at this sort of stuff anyway.

He swallowed thickly. "I'll come back," he said. He knew Malfoy heard him but there was no reply, so Harry did the only other thing he could do and left, trusting that Draco would know he was coming back for him.


	6. Letters and bubbles

**Chapter 6: Letters and Bubbles**

The letter had arrived for Harry that very evening, delivered by a small, unknown, tawny owl that disappeared the moment the letter was taken from its leg. Harry had been sat alone in the sitting room with a glass of Firewhisky and a book on his knee when the owl tapped on the window and he now found himself sat on the edge of his sofa, re-reading the letter for the fourth time with his hands trembling slightly.

_To: H POTTER_

_From: D MALFOY :: Patient ID : 4325MD_

_Letter sent from Saint Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries at 7:22 PM._

_If the contents of this letter contain anything of concern, please do not hesitate to contact one of our Healers by owl, floo or in person. _

_-.-.-.-_

_Potter._

_I don't know why I'm writing this- under supervision no less so they can see every damn word in writing if they're stupid enough to try._

_I had it all planned out until you appeared. I was going to die and that would be that, and I was fine with that. It was what I wanted. I'm sick and tired of fighting and losing people and I can't bear the thought of that happening again. I'm a coward, I know, but I think there is a very fine line between this type of cowardice and bravery. _

_There's too many reasons stacked against me._

_And then when I'm happy knowing all this, you turn up and make me hope again. No-one has turned up to check on me in two years and then you do, and it's such a joke because you hate me. You have every reason to hate me. And I hate you and myself because now I'm hoping, thinking maybe I don't have to die, maybe it will be ok._

_But at the end of the day, I lose everyone and that would apply to you too, and even if you are a complete bastard I wouldn't want to lose you. I AM NOT going to pin my life on you and have you disappear. I can't let anyone. So stop coming to see me so I can go back to the inevitable and be done with it._

_DM. _

Harry wanted to jump up and do one of Ron's ridiculous celebration dances that appeared whenever the Cannons won a Quidditch game. He was _in. _Draco had admitted it, he could hope, he didn't want to die- Harry found himself laughing, hugging the letter to his chest.

"Malfoy you ridiculous, stupid, selfish, wonderful moron," Harry beamed, resisting the impulse to kiss the parchment. Despite his sleepless nights and his fight with Ginny, he hadn't understood just how worried he had been about Draco. Now he had the admission of hope from the Slytherin, the weight had lifted from his heart and lungs without him having realised how heavily it had rested.

Harry reached for his glass of Firewhisky, toasted the wall and drained it in one. It was a tiny step Draco had taken, admitting that he felt hope, but to Harry it felt monumental.

And Draco had made the effort to write a letter. Even though the words said to leave him alone, Harry figured if Draco meant it he could have just not written _anything._

Harry sat back on the sofa, still smiling as he put his feet up on the coffee table with two satisfying thuds. Now this felt doable- it would be hard, tiring, frustrating and probably drive Harry close to insane but now it wasn't like he was following a path that would lead him to a dead end.

* * *

Harry had never once skived Quidditch training in his life, but this morning he didn't even think twice before fire-calling the captain, Annabelle, and saying that he'd fallen out of bed and pulled his back.

She stared long and hard into his innocent face and then nodded. "Take the week off, Potter," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "We can manage without you."

Harry gave a smile and a nod. "Thanks Annabelle, really."

"You're just lucky we've not got a match for three weeks," she said sternly. "If these were pre-match training sessions you'd be there even if you'd _broken_ your back falling out of bed."

"Yes boss," Harry said hastily. Annabelle was one of the few people on the planet that made Harry genuinely nervous and he was glad he didn't do this sort of thing often.

He skipped breakfast and headed straight to the hospital, walking up to the Welcome Witch with determination. "I need to see the Healer who is in charge of Draco Malfoy's treatment," he said without preamble.

"Okay, Sir," the witch said, sounding bored as ever. If you just have a seat-" she tapped a sheet of green parchment from a pile next to her with her wand, and it folded itself into a paper aeroplane and zoomed neatly off up the stairs. "Healer Taylor will be down as soon as he is finished on the third floor."

Harry wanted to argue but he thought it a little too early in the day to fake a '_I am Harry Potter, also known as the Chosen One, do as I command,'_ tantrum. And besides, if he did it might end up in the paper and then there was the chance that everyone would find out about Draco, and Annabelle might find out he was skiving.

Harry plonked himself down on a plastic chair to wait, thinking hard about what he was going to do today. It was the point of no going back, the start of something that could potentially end badly for him and his friends.

"Mister Potter!"

A Healer was walking across the floor towards him, brushing his still smoking sleeve with his other hand and looking flustered. "Sorry, someone overdosed on those damn Weasley fire tongue lollipops. Eight in an hour, ridiculous! Sorry- I trust you weren't waiting long?"

"No, not long," Harry said, rising to shake the mans hand. "Can we go somewhere to talk, in private please?"

Healer Taylor nodded, and Harry recognised him as one of the four who had dragged Draco down the corridor the first time he had seen him here. He led the way to a small magnolia painted waiting room which was filled with two sofa's, a rack of old _Witch Weeklys _and a quivering Flutterby bush in the corner. Harry didn't like these waiting rooms; despite the light colours and the pleasant aroma of the plant it felt oppressive, confined, filled with the echoes of bad news. The Healer gestured for Harry to sit down as he shut the door behind them.

"So, you wanted to speak about Draco," he said seriously, sitting down on one of two squashy brown sofa's with a sigh.

"Yes," Harry said, nodding and sitting on the other sofa opposite the man.

"I can't decide whether your visits have been good for him or not," the Healer said with a grimace. "His moods change quicker than the weather…"

"I noticed," Harry said dryly. "Is he not getting any better?" he asked hesitantly.

The Healer rubbed his face with his hands tiredly. "We don't know. He has days where he seems to be getting better but then he crashes, and he crashes hard. We've tried all sorts on him...cheering charms, stabilis potions...his magic just isn't responding. It did for a while, after your last visit, but it disappeared pretty quickly."

"His magic is being affected?" Harry asked and the Healer nodded.

"He's depressed, Mister Potter. If someone gets depressed enough their Magic retreats, they can't connect to it, and that in turn means past a certain point all our Healing therapy can't help," the Healer looked more miserable than ever. "Until he wants to help himself, there's nothing we can do except keep him here."

Harry nodded slowly, understanding. He hadn't realised that Draco's magic would be affected by this, and felt a pang of sympathy for the blond.

"He wrote to you last night, didn't he?" The Healer asked. "Nothing untoward I hope?"

"No, but that's why I'm here," Harry said. "I want to be registered as his next of kin."

The Healer looked at him blankly. "What?"

"I want you to register me as his next of kin," Harry repeated.

"But you're not related…" The Healer still looked baffled.

"I know, but he has no living relations," Harry pressed. "And I don't think he should be in here with no-one to help make his medical decisions, especially if he's not allowed to make his own."

"I'm sorry, Sir," The Healer said, looking a little affronted at the hint that the hospital weren't making the best decisions concerning someone's care. "But you're not any relation…"

"I was Malfoy's signatory of release at his Azkaban appeal," Harry said shortly and the Healer's face dawned in comprehension. "Which means I am responsible for him if he gets into any legal scrapes, and I want to extend that to medical grounds. He isn't happy here, and like you said there isn't anything more you can do," Harry hesitated and then ploughed on. "And I have reason to believe he isn't receiving the optimum care he could be because of prejudice against him from some staff and other patients concerning his past."

The Healer couldn't do anything but gape at him. Harry waited a good ten seconds and the Healer didn't shut his mouth so Harry spoke again.

"It's a win, win. I get to be in control of his care and you get him taken off of your hands. I reckon I can help him, and I'll do everything I can to get him better. If I can't, you have him back and you can say _I told you so._"

The Healer perked up at that, looking at Harry a little desperately. "Sir, please understand, I don't _ever _give up on my patients, but he's…"

"A nightmare. Believe me, I know," Harry finished grimly.

* * *

Draco was sick of this feeling. A bubble in his chest that wouldn't burst, filled with anxiety and nerves. It had been there since he had sent Potter that damn letter and at first Draco had been thrilled to be feeling _anything_ other than nothing, but now he just wanted it to go away; its suffocating presence was driving him to distraction. He had cried, screamed and fought with his Healers but it just wouldn't shift.

_Hope. _Draco thought bitterly. He was sat in the corner of his room with his knees tucked under his chin and his forehead resting against the wall._ That's why there's no point having it, because it fucking hurts._

He heard the familiar click of his door being unlocked and looked up, cursing himself the moment he did. He was _hoping _again, hoping it would be Potter and he had to stop doing that. He waited to see the familiar green robes of a Healer entering his room to check on him or make him eat something…

The bubble in his chest burst, flooding his body with relief and something else as he saw the dark haired man in his doorway, a sheaf of parchment in one hand and his other hand held out towards Draco.

"Come with me," Harry said evenly. "They've said you can come and stay with me and we can get you sorted."

Draco froze. This wasn't what he was expecting. He started to panic. He wasn't ready for this- having a glimmer of hope was one thing, but getting out and going to live with Potter- _Potter_ of all people?

"Malfoy," Harry said gently. "This is the only way you're getting out of this room."

Draco stared at the outstretched hand, wanting to jump up and hug Potter and cry at the same time, a whole vista of terrifying options opening up in front of him. What the hell was he going to do? He looked away from Potter's hand, his heart pounding so hard it was making him feel ill. What if he didn't get better? What if he couldn't? What if Potter abandoned him and he ended up back here with no escape route? Was _Potter _really a better option than being here?

"Draco," a soft voice made him look up again, his eyes impossibly wide. "Last chance."

Draco raised his eyes to Potter's eyes and as Potter blinked slowly, waiting for a response, Draco made up his mind.


	7. Sleep is for the week

**Chapter 7: Sleep is for the week**

Harry held his breath in anticipation as the trembling blond stared at him, looking terrified.

"Draco," he said softly, unsure how Draco's given name had slipped out of his mouth. "Last chance," he said gently as those grey eyes turned on him again.

Harry waited, his heart hammering against his ribs and then Draco moved. He gave a tiny shake of his head and a single word was whispered, hanging in the air.

"No."

Harry felt like he'd been punched in the stomach as Draco turned his head back towards the wall, his eyes shutting and his arms wrapping tightly around his knees.

Harry was at a loss. He knew Draco didn't want to be here, he _knew_ it. The letter, everything Draco had said in the letter screamed to Harry that he wanted help, that he didn't mean any of it and Harry felt with a fierce determination that he would sooner die himself than give up on the Slytherin.

Shaking his head, Harry walked across the room and dropped to his knees next to Draco, taking a chance and reaching out to put a tentative hand on Draco's back. The blond jerked at his touch but didn't move away, enabling Harry to keep the contact between them.

"I know you're scared," Harry said softly. "And this is going to be _hard_. But I know you can do it, if you just stop thinking of everyone as the enemy. I'm not your enemy anymore. Let me help."

His hand moved unconsciously, gently rubbing small circles on Draco's back. "I can't," Draco whispered.

"You can," Harry whispered urgently. Draco shook his head again.

"I don't want to."

"You're a big fat liar," Harry said. "You meant every word in that letter and I know you did so don't lie to me now. There's no point, you've already said half of it anyway and I'm not going to forget in a hurry."

Draco shuddered slightly under Harry's hand. "You'll leave," he said, so quietly it was barely audible.

"I won't. I swear I won't. I'm not going to be happy unless you're happy and I can't change that. Trust me," Harry said urgently.

Draco didn't reply immediately and Harry waited it out, still tracing soothing patterns on Draco's back.

Draco swallowed audibly. "But I'm- I'm marked, I'm-" he said, his voice thick.

"Let's not think about that now, let's just get you out of here," Harry said. "One step at a time."

"One step at a time," Draco repeated, the grey eyes opening. Harry stilled his hand and waited, his nerves feeling frazzled, his heart fit to burst inside his ribcage-

Harry could have cried when the miraculous happened; Draco Malfoy nodded and slowly turned around, reaching out and taking Harry's hand.

Harry felt a shock go through his fingers as Malfoy's warm fingers wrapped tightly around his. Unsettled by the sensation, he climbed to his feet somewhat unsteadily, and heaved Draco up too. He couldn't help but notice how the blond was studiously avoiding his gaze and looking at the floor, although he didn't try and pull his hand free from Harry's.

"I've got all your stuff. We'll floo to mine to make sure no-one sees you," Harry said and watched Draco nod. Harry gave his hand a tug and Draco followed him out through the blue door, the junior Healer who had been waiting in the corridor following them and carrying a box with _4325MD_ stamped on the side, a look of delighted incredulously plastered on his face.

"I'm only doing this to get out of this room."

Harry smiled as Draco spoke to the side and just behind him, still gripping his hand tightly as Harry led them down the corridors.

"Yes, I know," Harry said.

"And I still don't trust you," Draco said petulantly.

"I know," Harry repeated.

"And I'm not going to be _nice,_ or _happy_ about this."

"That's perfectly fine," Harry said, ushering Draco through a door to someone's office where a roaring green fire was already blazing. The Healer had been right, Harry though bemusedly. Draco's moods changed almost too quickly to keep up with, making the transition from tearful wreck to petulant brat seamlessly.

Harry went to go through the floo first but found his fingers still held tightly in Draco's grip. He looked at the blond questioningly and saw panic in the grey eyes.

"Okay, you go first. Just wait for me the other side," Harry said and Draco nodded, stepping into the green flames and disappearing with a woosh. Harry turned to the Healer who held out the box of Draco's things with a small smile. "Take care of him. And please don't bring him back unless you really, _really_ have to."

Harry gave the Junior Healer a rueful smile and clapped him on the shoulder but didn't say anything, not wanting to leave Draco alone in Grimmauld Place for longer than necessary. He took a deep breath, holding tightly to the box in his hands and followed him through the flames. He found Draco stood perfectly still and tense in the middle of Harry's sitting room, looking carefully around with wide eyes.

"Welcome to my house," Harry said. "Come on. I'll show you where you're staying if you want," he spoke whilst walking to the door and waiting patiently for Draco to finish staring round. The grey eyes turned on Harry and Harry felt a shiver go through him under their intense gaze and he turned away, gesturing for Draco to follow him.

He led Draco into the single room that was on the fourth floor. Since the end of the war Harry and his friends had completely gutted and refurbished the house, leaving it light, airy and feeling like a proper home.

The room Draco was to be staying in was simple and small in comparison to some of the others in the house, but was a immeasurable improvement on the Saint Mungo's isolation cell. A large double bed was in the centre of the room, a bookcase covered the left hand wall and there was a comfortable chair and writing desk in front of the large window to the right that gave a view over the rooftops of London.

Harry would never admit just how much thought he went into selecting this room for Draco. He had consciously chosen one without a four poster bed in, and one that didn't have a bath in its adjoining washroom. The books on the bookshelf were ones that had been in there since they had finished the room but Harry had slipped in a few extras on Potions and Quidditch, just in case.

"I think you should get some sleep, proper sleep," Harry said, dropping the box of Draco's personal belongings onto the writing desk and watching Draco who was stood scrunching his toes into the thick cream carpet.

"Yeah I think I will," Draco said finally and Harry gave a nod. He paused and then reached into the box, extracting Draco's wand.

"You know I can't let you have this back yet," Harry said sadly.

Draco nodded and waved it off with his hand. "I know."

Harry nodded again and walked to the door, Draco's wand in his hand. "I'm one floor down on the left. If you want anything, come and get me. Any time," he said firmly.

"You're not locking me in?" Draco asked with a slight frown.

"No," Harry said, shaking his head, not offering any further explanation before leaving and gently shutting the door behind him.

Draco was trembling from head to toe as Harry left him alone in his new room. This was insane. He was in Harry Potter's house, with Harry Potter, who had just rescued him _again_ from certain death…Draco's head hurt. He looked towards the bed and suddenly felt exhausted, wanting nothing more to do than sleep for a week. Maybe a month.

He willed his feet to move and crawled onto the bed and wanted to cry; it was so comfortable, so warm and welcoming…Draco barely reached the pillows before his body gave out and he fell asleep atop the covers.

* * *

Harry resisted the urge to check on Draco for a whole hour and then gave in, thinking he didn't care if Draco found it weird; he was still under his care and he needed to make sure he was okay.

He knocked softly and when he got no response pushed the door open, feeling a smidgen of panic that was wiped out and replaced with a small smile when he saw the blond sprawled out on the bed, completely asleep, his left foot twitching slightly.

Harry walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, watching Draco carefully. The sleeping face looked peaceful and his breathing was slow, deep and even. This was surreal; Draco Malfoy was in his guest room and he wasn't panicking that they were going to kill each other. If anything, Harry was looking forwards to Draco waking up so they could talk properly.

A part of him had been worried that they wouldn't be able to get beyond their past, all the hexes and insults and terrible things they had done to one another. He was a little disconcerted at how quickly he'd moved on from that, but wasn't going to question it too much. As long as Draco could do the same, he reckoned that they ought to be alright.

He had realised that even with knowing Draco for nine years he didn't know him at all. In his mind Draco had been a typical sneaky Slytherin twat with only the capacity to mock, manipulate and run like a coward when things got rough, but since the war that had started to change. The fierce love Draco had for his mother, his actions in not betraying Harry and the others during the war, the way he had cried in Saint Mungo's…Draco was becoming more and more like an actual person with every moment that passed and Harry couldn't wait to find out more.


	8. Planning your moves

**Chapter 8: Checkmate**

His patience was tested over the next few days like it never had been before. Draco slept for nearly three days solid and didn't leave his room at all. Harry bought him food but Draco was normally asleep when he did, and when Harry next returned the food would be gone and Draco would have fallen asleep once again. Harry had wondered if he were faking it, and had - just the once - resorted to poking him. The blond had mumbled something incoherent and rolled over, still clearly fast asleep and leaving Harry feeling both amused and a little guilty.

Harry had three days left off from training when he finally got what he was waiting for. It was not yet nine in the morning and he was sat in the kitchen reading the Daily Prophet, eating a bacon sandwich with his eyes glued to the paper, when he heard shuffling footsteps and a voice.

"Any chance of something to eat?"

Draco still looked tired, but not washed out like he had in Saint Mungo's. He was still wearing the white pyjama bottoms, but now had on a black vest that Harry presumed had been in the box of his things.

"Yeah, sure," Harry said. "Sit down and I'll get you something."

Draco sat down, looking at the tabletop and studiously away from Harry. His countenance shifted from tired to nervous to wary and back again, not that Harry could blame him for that.

He quickly put together Draco a bacon sandwich of his own and put on a pot of coffee; the whole of sixth year obsessively watching Malfoy had had the unfortunate side affect of knowing the Slytherin's preference for coffee rather than tea with breakfast as well as a lot of other things.

He knew Draco was ambidextrous. He knew that Draco liked being close to people, often sitting close enough to his friends for their shoulders to touch slightly. He knew Draco fidgeted and slipped his feet out of his shoes when sat down at a desk or table. He knew Draco had a habit of pressing one long finger between his eyebrows when he was reading or thinking hard, and he also knew Draco could run ridiculously fast if the occasion called for it.

Draco tucked hungrily into his breakfast, breathing in and out deeply and inhaling the smell of the bacon.

"Thank you, Potter," he said thickly through a mouthful of sandwich.

Harry was surprised but gratified at the thanks and nodded, turning back to his own sandwich, finishing it quickly and waiting for Draco to do the same.

"How're you feeling?" Harry asked as Draco reached for a mug and the pot of coffee.

"I don't know," Draco said, his hand steady as he poured himself a drink. "It's a lot to take in," he admitted.

"I can imagine," Harry said with a wan smile.

Draco looked up at him and shot him a weak smile in return. He opened his mouth to speak but Harry cut him off.

"Look I know this is hard for you. You've changed since we were at Hogwarts but I'll bet my Firebolt you're still not one for speaking from the heart."

Draco made no indication he had heard and Harry continued.

"I'm willing to forget everything if you are," Harry said honestly. "I don't want to know the Malfoy from school. I want to get to know the new one."

"How do you know I've changed at all, Potter?" Malfoy asked quietly.

"I think you have," Harry said. "It's been two years and you've been through a lot."

"It might have made me worse," Draco said, still staring at his coffee.

"If it had made you worse, you wouldn't be sat in my kitchen, eating breakfast with me and having a decent, polite conversation," Harry countered and Draco did smile weakly at that.

"I suppose," he said, and then looked up, worried. "Potter, I'm still not-"

"One step at a time," Harry said gently to him and Draco nodded, before hesitantly reaching over the table with his hand outstretched towards Harry.

Harry took it and shook it, feeling the same warmth in his fingers as when Draco had taken his hand in the hospital, however this time Draco let go fairly quickly, taking his coffee mug back in his hands.

"Do you want to talk about anything?" Harry asked him hesitantly.

Draco appeared to think long and hard before slowly shaking his head. "No."

Harry didn't press it. "I'm going down to Diagon Alley, do you need anything?" he asked, flicking his wand at his empty plate so it floated towards the sink. Draco watched the gesture with a strange expression on his face and his fingers flexed unconsciously around his mug.

"Something to wear," he said, his eyes still watching the plate as it settled itself in the sink. He blinked and then seemed to remember where he was, looking to Harry. "Nothing special, just a change of clothes," he said hastily and Harry nodded.

"That's fine," Harry said, getting up and pulling his jacket off of the back of his chair. He paused. "Erm…you can go anywhere in the house, but I've locked some of the bathrooms and cupboards, and the floo is shut off," he said slowly. "But the library is open, so is the sitting room…"

"Okay," Draco said, back to staring into the depths of his coffee. Harry watched him for a moment just incase he wanted to say more but he didn't, so Harry left him to it and left.

* * *

Harry panicked all the way around Diagon Alley; as a result he forgot half of what he went for and had to double back more than once, cursing under his breath that the trip had taken twice as long as he planned.

He was panicking because Draco would be alone in his house, and unlike the isolation cell in Saint Mungo's, there were plenty of ways Draco could hurt himself inside Grimmauld place if he so desired. The thought drove him to distraction and when his final purchase was made he almost sprinted to the shop door so he could apparate home.

It took him three attempts to get his key into the door when he arrived on his doorstep, and two more to actually get the blasted thing open. He fell through it and immediately dropped the shopping against the wall where Mrs Black's portrait used to hang, racing through the house to find Draco.

The kitchen was empty, as were the library and sitting room. Harry supposed Draco would be up in his room and climbed the stairs to the top of the house, knocking on the door gently. As usual, there was no answer so Harry pushed the door open.

His heart froze. The room was empty.

"Malfoy?" he called, incase the blond was in the bathroom. Harry stepped inside and saw the bathroom door was wide open, and the room just as empty as the previous one. _Fuck!_

Harry tore back down the steps with his heart in his mouth, slipping haphazardly down the last four, aiming to tear apart every room in the house if needed when he froze on the third floor landing, his hands on the banisters at the top of the stairs.

His bedroom door was ajar.

Frowning, Harry pushed the door quietly open and stepped in, sighing in relief and sagging against the door frame. There was Draco, asleep once more, but not where he was supposed to be. He was curled up again like a cat, smack bang in the middle of Harry's bed.

Harry gave a puzzled smile as he looked at the sleeping man but then shrugged, leaving the room and shutting the door before heading downstairs to rescue the shopping from where he had abandoned it in the hallway.

* * *

Draco's eyes fluttered open and he blinked hard, debating whether to let his body sink back into sleep once more. He would have gone for a resolute yes if he had not realised that he was definitely not in his own room, and sat up in horror.

Since Potter had left he had been feeling restless and agitated, and had left his room to try and find some outlet for his anxiety when he had found himself outside Potter's room, noticing the door had been left open. Before he could figure out what he was doing he had snuck inside, overwhelmed with curiosity.

He had found it to be exactly as he imagined, namely messy. Stacks of Quidditch magazines were piled on the desk and floor, odd shoes were scattered haphazardly around the room, books were piled lopsidedly against the wall and a set of robes were falling out of the closet, slinking their way across the carpet. On the windowsill was a collection of seven or eight Golden Snitches and Draco had wondered where Potter had gotten them from.

Draco remembered sitting on the bed and looking at a photograph on the bedside table; it was of Potter, the Weasel and Granger and he had stuck his tongue out at it before noticing with a shock what was next to the photograph. It was the letter, _his letter. _Draco had picked it up with trembling hands, lying on his back on the bed as he forced himself to reread his own words. Upon finishing, he held the letter fiercely to his chest and bit his lip, shame coursing through him at the thought of writing those words, especially to Potter. He had shut his eyes to keep the tears firmly at bay, and that was all he remembered until waking up.

He looked around frantically and his sharp eyes noticed the door had been closed; he had _definitely _left it open when he came in so the only explanations were either that the house was haunted, or Potter had come back and found Draco asleep on his bed.

Shit. Draco had a fleeting moment of worry that Potter would be furious but realised that somehow he knew he wouldn't be. Potter had changed, proven to Draco by not only rescuing him from Saint Mungo's but also with his offer to start fresh that morning. Draco thought about it carefully. A fresh start…it was what he had secretly prayed for and where better to start it than with his ex-enemy and schoolyard rival? _How symbolic_… Draco thought wryly and then quickly checked his thoughts. He still _wasn't _going to get better, he thought with a scowl, he just couldn't.

Draco ran his hands through his hair in frustration, torn between wanting to go and see Potter and talk to him and being petrified of letting go of every bad thought he'd had in the past year. He didn't know _how_ to be happy. Being enemies with everyone was the only thing he knew how to be anymore.

He paused as that thought floated through his mind. Usually he said he _didn't_ want to be happy any more, but now…no. _No._

He couldn't.

* * *

"Potter."

Harry looked up, startled as he heard the embarrassed sounding voice coming from somewhere near the door of his sitting room. Draco was stood there, arms crossed across his chest and looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"Malfoy, you alright?" he asked, concerned.

Draco nodded vigorously. "I'm…" he began, looking up, but he faltered. "What are you doing?" he asked, a little confused.

Harry looked down at the chessboard he had set up in front of him on the coffee table with a sigh. "Trying to work out why Ron beats me at chess every damn time we play."

Harry didn't expect Malfoys next move, which he bemusedly thought was probably why he was so bad at chess. The blond walked around to the opposite side of the coffee table and sat cross-legged on the floor at the white side of the board, looking carefully at the board before moving a piece.

Harry tried not to either grin or lunge across the table and hug Malfoy so hard that the silly git couldn't breathe. Instead, he forced his face into a neutral expression and moved one of his own pieces.

Malfoy moved a knight of his immediately and Harry paused for a second before moving one of his own pawns.

"Why did you move that?" Malfoy asked and Harry shrugged.

"You need to know why you're moving every single piece, Potter." Malfoy explained. "Every move you make, it should be so you can make the move three turns ahead."

"That's not possible," Harry said, perplexed. "You don't know what the other person is going to do."

"That's why you think of two or three different methods of getting to your destination," Draco said and Harry swore he saw the blond roll his eyes. "You just saw me move my knight, yes? So it's fair to assume I'm working with these pieces first," Draco gestured to the rear row of chess pieces.

"So it would be pointless for me to move all my pawns first?" Harry guessed.

Draco nodded. "Unless you want me to smash them all in eight moves, yes."

"I told you so," one of the pawns chipped in petulantly, glaring at Harry.

"Enough from you," Harry said. He looked down at the board, his brow furrowing in concentration. He knew Draco was watching him intently and shivered slightly under that bright gaze that was so different to anyone else's. Finally, he reached down and moved a bishop.

"Good," Draco said with a smile that almost could have been a smirk.

"Don't tell me you knew I was going to do that," Harry said in disbelief.

"Well, you are terribly predictable, Potter," Draco _did _smirk then, moving his knight and forcing Harry to move his bishop back a space.

"Think about the other pieces," Draco said and Harry marvelled that the blond wasn't getting impatient with him. "You could use this one, this one, _or _this one to get your bishop out of trouble. Think about the patterns they follow."

"I didn't think about it that way," Harry said, his eyes scanning the board.

"Well, you have to," Draco said. "It's like life. Always have your moves planned out."

Harry looked up at him, intrigued. "You really think that?"

"Of course," Draco said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"I don't," Harry said. "I like sometimes not knowing where I'm going or where I'm going to end up- what?" he said as Draco pulled a face. "You really have to have it all planned out?"

"Why do you think I'm in this mess, Potter?" Draco said. "I ran out of moves."

Harry watched the blond in silence as he made his next move, only dropping his eyes back to the board to figure out his own. "It can be great you know," he said casually. "Exciting."

"Don't tell me you didn't plan your life out, Potter," Draco said, leaning back on his elbows and frowning at Harry. "You didn't plan to defeat the Dark Lord, play Quidditch for England, marry the Weaselette and have a whole bunch of kids by the time you were twenty-five?"

Harry looked up at him, shaking his head bemusedly. "I didn't marry Ginny," he said.

"You didn't?" Draco asked, distracted.

"No, of course not," Harry replied.

"I thought you did," Draco said in wonder.

"We're together, but…I haven't spoken to her in days," Harry said with a shrug. "She's pissed because I went to visit you and she asked me not to."

"Wait, she doesn't know I'm here?" Draco asked incredulously.

"Not a clue. I should maybe warn her before she turns up…" Harry said pensively, moving his Queen hesitantly across the board to take one of Draco's knights.

"Well that's interesting," Draco said, raising one eyebrow slightly. He looked down at the board in mild surprise at his knight who was cursing him fluently as the black Queen dragged it off of the board. "And that was unexpected. You're not as stupid as you look, Potter."


	9. Comfort

**Chapter 9: Comfort**

Harry went to bed that night feeling elated. He and Draco had played three games of chess before the blond had retreated to his room and they hadn't stopped talking during all three. They had talked about Harry's job, Ron and Hermione, chess, unicorns, the house, Firewhisky, food, house-elves and even about Harry's shopping trip that day. Draco didn't say anything more about himself but asked Harry countless questions, seeming genuinely interested; a yearning, almost hungry look passing over his face from time to time as Harry spoke, those bright grey eyes only leaving Harry's to look at the chess board.

The next morning Harry went straight up to Draco's room and went in to ask if the blond wanted breakfast, knocking out of courtesy and pushing the door open.

Draco was sat at his writing desk with his elbows on the polished wood and his head in his hands. He was wearing a air of black slacks and a black T-shirt that Harry had picked up for him yesterday, his skin and hair looking shockingly white in comparison.

"Malfoy? Want breakfast?" Harry asked hesitantly from the doorway.

"No."

"Malfoy, are you okay?" Harry asked.

"Leave me alone, Potter," Draco's voice was hard and clear.

Harry opened his mouth to argue but abruptly shut it again, feeling hurt. He desperately wanted the Draco from the previous evening to come back, and definitely didn't want Draco to shut him out, but he didn't want to argue with him and risk undoing all of yesterday's progress.

"Okay. I'll leave you be, but if you need me, you come and get me," he said. He didn't expect a response and didn't get one so went back downstairs, a little at a loss about what to do. He would normally spent time off work with Ginny, but considering she wasn't talking to him right now, that wasn't an option.

He managed to keep himself preoccupied for most of the day; reading, watching a couple of films, taking his time over lunch, fire-calling Ron at the shop and assuring him he was okay (but neglecting to mention he'd moved Malfoy into his house) and stitching up a tear in his Quidditch uniform that had been bugging him for ages. He had gone up to Draco's room in the early evening to ask if he wanted dinner but had dimly heard the sound of the shower running through the door so had left him be.

Harry just couldn't get over the events of yesterday, how he had not only tolerated but _liked _Draco's company. The thought buzzed around his head until he could bear it no longer and at twenty past nine he heaved himself off of the sofa and went up to check of Draco again.

Harry went to knock on the door but paused, pressing his ear against the wood. The water was still running.

Without a second thought Harry opened the door and walked across to the bathroom, yanking the door open. Draco was there, sat in the bottom of the shower under the spray, fully dressed with his head resting against the tiled wall and his eyes staring blankly at nothing.

"Fuck!" Harry hissed, leaping forwards and turning the water off. "Malfoy! You're going to freeze, come on!"

Malfoy looked up at him, blinking slowly and then rested his head back against the tiles.

"No you don't, come on," Harry said firmly, reaching out and heaving Malfoy up with difficulty, pulling him out of the shower and bathroom and steering him into the bedroom.

Draco stood completely still except for his violent shivers that dripped water all over the carpet, as Harry grabbed the blanket from the top of the bed and wrapped it around him, pulling it up over his head.

"What are you playing at?" Harry asked gently, holding one arm around Draco's waist and wiping water away from Draco's face with the other hand.

"I don't know," Draco replied miserably.

Harry pulled his wand out of his pocket and waved it over Draco, drying him off with a single charm. "Come on," Harry repeated. "Get downstairs and I'll get you a hot drink and something to eat."

Draco made no indication he'd heard so Harry put his hands on Draco's shoulders and gently steered him out of the room and down the stairs. Draco made no objection at all and allowed Harry to push him onto a stool in the kitchen; the blanket still wrapped around him and pulled over his head like a cloak and his teeth chattering despite being dried.

"I told you to come and get me if you needed me," Harry said, inwardly cursing himself for not keeping a better watch on his charge. He set about making Draco a hot drink and heating him some of the soup Harry had made at lunch, continually shooting Draco glances as he worked.

The blond looked like he'd been sedated again, his eyes unfocused and blank as Harry bought the food and drink over and leant over Draco to place it in front of him. He hesitated and then rested his hands on Draco's shoulders as he moved back. Draco made a violent movement as if to throw Harry's hands off of him but Harry gently squeezed and then Draco went limp, his weight falling back onto Harry and his head resting on Harry's chest.

Harry smiled weakly, gently running his thumbs over the bony ridges of Draco's shoulders. "Are you okay?" Harry asked softly after a while and felt Draco head move against his chest in a nod.

"I just…I was thinking about Mother and got lost," Draco said almost inaudibly.

Harry gave his shoulders another gentle squeeze to show he'd heard and understood. "I used to feel like that after Sirius died," he said. "Like I was dreaming."

Draco nodded again and his head tilted slightly to the side to rest against Harry's chest more comfortably, showing Harry the white skin of his neck where Harry could see a pulse fluttering.

"I just…" Draco tried.

"It's alright, you don't have to explain," Harry said, running his hands along Draco's shoulders. They stayed like this for a long time; Harry stood behind Draco supporting his weight and gently rubbing his shoulders.

"I like you, Potter," Draco said quietly.

"Hmm?" Harry said, caught up in his own thoughts.

"You're not so bad as you used to be," Draco said.

"Well neither are you," Harry said with a smile. "You're actually alright."

"God we have one conversation and we turn into a couple Hufflepuffs," Draco said, his voice sounding more and more normal as he spoke.

"Well it was a good conversation," Harry said, giving Draco's shoulders one last gentle squeeze and moving away towards the sink. "Eat your food, you need it."

Draco obediently pulled the bowl towards him, taking a few mouthfuls before looking towards Harry again. "Potter?"

Harry looked to him with raised eyebrows, wondering what Draco was looking so hesitant about saying.

Draco looked down at the table again. "For what it's worth… I'm sorry I broke your nose."

Harry grinned at him, rubbing his nose absent-mindedly. "I'd almost forgotten about that."

"You're really not still pissed about it? I would be," Draco said, eyeing Harry thoughtfully.

"Well you're more vain than I am," Harry shrugged and Draco pulled a face at him. "Seriously. We all had a lot going on…you were in a bad position."

"Yeah. I fucked that move up pretty badly," Draco said in a small voice. Harry sighed as he moved to sit on the stool next to him, reaching out and pulling the blanket away from Draco's head, his hair ruffled.

"Look, you were sixteen and you were a prat. But you've shown your worth since then and you're continuing to do so."

"Really?" Draco asked, frowning worriedly at Harry.

"Yes," Harry said firmly. "I'm finding I like your company, and I really want you to get better."

Draco nodded at him and then turned back to his soup. Harry turned away as well so Draco wouldn't see his smile, planning on making himself a hot chocolate. He had got as far as pointing his wand at the kettle when he heard the front door slam.

"Harry? You in?"

Draco looked up quickly, his head jerking as his eyes sought Harry's. Harry stared back, his posture frozen and his brain coming up short as he desperately tried to think of a way around this situation which - despite failing Divination in school - he already knew was not going to end well.

"Harry!"

"Yeah, in here," Harry shouted back finally, before lowering his arm and breaking Draco's gaze, mouthing _fuck. _

"What's up with you? Why haven't you been going to training-"

Harry winced as Ginny's voice stopped abruptly. Harry counted silently to three and then looked up, trying to act like it was completely normal for his girlfriend to come home and find he'd moved an ex-death eater who she happened to still hate into the house.

"Harry?" Ginny asked delicately. "Can I ask, what the fuck is he doing here?"

Before Harry could do more than open his mouth uselessly, Draco moved. He slid off of the chair and gave Harry a hard look and a fractional nod before slipping smartly past Ginny and out of the kitchen.

"Harry-" Ginny began dangerously.

"I know," Harry said before she could start shouting. "I know I should have told you, but he's here now and the staff at Saint Mungo's won't take him back so he's staying."

It was only a small lie, Harry thought with a grimace as Ginny stared at him like he'd punched her.

"You shouldn't have bought him here full stop, fuck not telling me about it!"

"He's got nowhere else to go!"

"Who cares? Harry, get him out of here."

"No!" Harry was losing rapidly losing his temper. "I am not going to leave him by himself to die, he doesn't deserve it!" He paused, breathing heavily. "You know what, nothing you say is going to make me make him leave, so if that's all you want you can go."

"You are unbelievable!" Ginny shrieked.

"Don't let it go to your head," Harry said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, before he could stop himself. Ginny marched over but Harry stood his ground, wondering if he were about to be hexed.

"You completely ignored what I wanted-"

"Gin, when have we ever really cared what the other one does?" Harry said, exasperated.

"I do care-" Ginny began.

"I've not seen you in almost a week- I could have gone off and done _anything, _or you could have gone anywhere- I'm not about to start running every little things past you when it doesn't make a difference to us-"

Ginny gave a frustrated cry and shoved Harry in the chest, making him stumble backwards. "This isn't a little thing!" she shouted.

"We've always lived separate lives Gin, why is suddenly a problem now?" Harry asked, aggravated.

"Because even if we were separate we were still together and now you've stuck Malfoy in the middle of us-" Ginny said, her voice trembling.

"Stuck Malfoy-what?" Harry was bewildered. "He's not in the middle of us; I'm just taking care of him."

"You should have left him to rot!" Ginny yelled.

"Out." Harry said tersely.

Ginny fell silent, looking at him open mouthed.

"What? Harry, you can't be-" she began.

"No. Get out, that's…until you grow up and stop being so blasé about whether someone we grew up with lives or dies, get out."

"You dick," Ginny said, her eyes shining with tears. "You just don't get it."

"I know, I really don't get anything right now," Harry said tiredly. "And you're not helping."

Ginny glared at him a moment longer and then stormed out without so much as another word, which Harry was guiltily grateful for. He heard the front door slam with house shaking force and Harry sank onto the stool Malfoy had vacated and gripped his hair in his hands, willing himself not to cry. This was ridiculous, he was just trying to do the right thing…

Harry shook his head violently and got up, feeling exhausted. He left the kitchen and got to the bottom of the stairs and stopped stock still as he saw Draco was sat mid-way up the staircase, the blanket draped loosely around his shoulders and his grey eyes alert and on Harry.

He had heard everything.

Harry fought a fresh surge of misery at the thought of Draco hearing everything between him and Ginny and walked up the stairs, brushing past Draco but not stopping to talk. He was shattered and just wanted to sleep. Draco leant out of the way slightly as Harry passed but stayed exactly where he was, not looking round whilst Harry ascended the second flight of stairs, going into his room and shutting the door, leaning on it and breathing out deeply.

Filled with lethargy, Harry pulled his T-shirt over his head and sat down heavily on edge of the bed, leaning down to pull off his socks with clumsy movements. He shucked his jeans off and picked up his wand, extinguishing the lights in the room before falling back onto the bed and crawling up to the pillows, lying down on his back and pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. This was ridiculous, all he had done was care and it was biting him in the arse, _again._

Punching his pillow with excessive force, Harry rolled onto his side and pulled the blankets over him, trying to calm down enough just to get some sleep.

* * *

Some time later, maybe minutes, or hours, he wasn't sure- Harry dimly heard the door to his room opening and wondered groggily if he had actually fallen asleep or not.

"You alright, Malfoy?" he asked sleepily over his shoulder, knowing that it would be the only other inhabitant of the house. No answer.

He was about to roll over when he felt the mattress dip behind him and with shock felt a skinny body slide into the bed next to him, wrapping an arm loosely round his waist and gently hugging him. Draco was _in his bed, hugging him._

Harry was surprised he didn't feel any urges to roll over and kick Draco forcibly out of the bed, or shout and scream and ask what the hell he was playing at. Instead, he felt all the tension from his fight with Ginny leave him and he relaxed back into the embrace.

A hand came up and Harry felt long fingers gently run through the hair on the back of his head and as his body gave a pleasurable shiver he realised what was going on; Draco was _comforting_ him.

"I should be the one comforting you," he said thickly. Draco didn't reply but Harry felt a slight pressure as the arm around his midriff tightened, just enough.

_This is insane…_Harry remembered thinking that much before his eyes fluttered shut and sleep claimed him.


	10. Ultimatums and accidents

**Chapter 10: Ultimatums and accidents**

Harry woke up the next morning to find a very blond someone tucked up against his body with his head under Harry's chin and an arm draped over Harry's hip. Harry himself was far from innocent in the situation; one of his own arms was thrown around Draco's shoulders, holding the blond close to him as they slept. He was more than a little bewildered for a moment, and then relaxed as he remembered the previous night's events that had led to him waking up with a bed full of Draco Malfoy.

It wasn't unpleasant, Harry mused, feeling Draco's soft breaths on his collarbone and his long legs pressed against Harry's. If anyone had told him two years ago he'd be waking up from the best night's sleep he'd had in forever with Draco Malfoy in his arms he'd have laughed in their face. Or cursed them on sight. But now the impossible had happened and Harry found that it was actually far from unpleasant; Draco's warm weight was comforting and feeling the steady thud of Draco's heart against his body made Harry feel both relieved, soothed, and in a strange way, safe.

He slowly moved back, disentangling himself from Draco's sleeping form and climbing out of bed, grabbing a T-shirt out of his wardrobe and pulling it over his head. He stretched, idly wondering on what to do today when he heard a hammering coming from downstairs. Someone was at the front door and by the sounds of it they weren't happy.

Harry slouched down the stairs, taking a little solace in the fact that it couldn't be Ginny hammering on his door because she still had a key.

"Alright! Hang on!" Harry shouted grumpily as he got to the bottom of the stairs.

The banging stopped and Harry breathed a sigh of relief as a muffled shout came back through the door.

"Mate, let me in before Hermione catches up!"

Harry hastily opened the door and let Ron in, shutting the door and double locking it with his wand, just to be sure.

"Is it true?" Ron asked, panting slightly and massaging a stitch in his side, having either run here or apparated badly. It could have been either, knowing Ron.

"What?" Harry asked warily.

"That you moved Draco Malfoy into your house without telling anyone?" Ron asked.

Harry didn't say anything and Ron's expression transferred from worried to incredulous. "You _did!_" Ron exclaimed.

"How do you know anyway?" Harry hissed, bundling Ron into the kitchen as if somehow by standing near the stairs Ron would sense that Draco was in Harry's bed, and even if Ron was supportive, Harry was positive that _that_ wouldn't go down well. God he was paranoid.

"Ginny came to ours kicking and screaming this morning!" Ron said, going straight to the pantry and rummaging through. "Hermione's talking to her, I managed to sneak out to see you before they decide to join forces and _murder_ you."

He turned around, a pack of biscuits in each hand and saw Harry still standing uselessly by the table. "Well, put the kettle on," he said impatiently.

Harry had to smile. Ron was a _saint _in a freckled suit and Harry was going to buy him the biggest present ever when this whole mess was over and done with. Maybe a case of Firewhisky. Or a Firebolt. Or a trip to the Moon.

"Where is he then?" Ron asked, sitting down at the kitchen table and tearing one packet of biscuits open as Harry busied himself making tea.

"Asleep. He spends most of his time asleep," Harry said, feeling a flush rise in his neck at the thought of where Draco was asleep, fervently thinking it was a good job his back was turned to Ron so he couldn't see Harry blushing. _I'm blushing over Draco Malfoy…_Harry thought distractedly and had to fight an insane urge to giggle.

"Probably a good thing," Ron mused.

"Ron, he's not that bad," Harry chastised, bringing over two mugs of tea and leaning on the table next to Ron.

"I'm sure," Ron rolled his eyes and shoved a whole biscuit in his mouth.

"He's not," Harry insisted. "We talked for _hours_ the other day, he asked me loads about my job and you guys, he played chess with me...He's honestly been…different. I've liked having him here." Harry confessed. "And he apologised for breaking my nose."

"He apologised?" Ron asked, surprised. "I didn't think he could physically do that."

Harry laughed softly, taking a sip of his drink. It was beyond wonderful to have Ron here to talk to about this, especially considering that a couple of years ago Ron probably would have reacted the same way as Ginny had done.

"Is he okay?" Ron asked suddenly. "He hasn't tried to…you know…do anything bad to himself again?"

Harry shook his head. "I wouldn't say he was okay, but he's getting there," he said seriously. "His mood is up and down like anything and he had bit of a moment yesterday…"

"But he's getting better?" Ron prompted and Harry nodded.

"It's early days but I think so."

"Good," Ron said, smiling at Harry. "Then that's all that matters, you know you did the right thing bringing him here right?"

Harry nodded vigorously. "Definitely."

"Who knew," Ron sighed melodramatically. "Draco Malfoy just needed a bit of love."

Harry choked into his tea and Ron thumped him on the back, looking alarmed.

"Swallow, mate," he said as Harry coughed, sitting down on a stool, his eyes streaming. "I don't think love is the right word to be using around Malfoy, Ron," he wheezed.

"Alright, Draco Malfoy needed a hero to come and rescue him," Ron suggested.

"I'm not a hero," Harry said, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"Well you kind of are," Ron said with a nod in Harry's direction. "This is about the third time you've saved his life. You better be careful or you're going to be stuck saving Malfoys life forever."

Harry laughed. "Hopefully if I do it right this time I won't have to do it again. If I can get him on his feet, he might keep himself out of trouble for ten minutes."

Ron snorted. "Draco Malfoy has turned nice and Harry Potter is complaining that someone can't keep themselves out of trouble. The world has taken a very strange turn indeed."

* * *

Ron left at lunchtime and before Harry could even set about cleaning up the mugs and crumbs from the table Draco appeared in the kitchen, sliding into a seat and reaching for a biscuit that had survived Ron's attack.

"You should eat proper food," Harry said with a frown and Draco shook his head, nibbling along the edge of the biscuit.

"How you feeling?" Harry asked, not wanting to mention the bed-sharing shenanigans from the previous night.

Draco shook his head slowly.

"You don't want to talk today?" Harry said and Draco nodded, looking at him with something that was almost gratitude.

"Okay," Harry said and went to leave the kitchen but Draco reached out and caught his sleeve, pulling on it slightly. Harry frowned, wondering what the blond wanted and was rewarded with another barely noticeable tug to his sleeve. He stepped up to Draco and the blond leant towards him resting his forehead on Harry's chest, his face turned towards the floor.

Warmth spread through Harry at the gesture and he complied, gently wrapping his arms around Draco's shoulders. In truth, he was worried that Draco would be distant and cold this morning but it was just as he had noticed in sixth year; Draco yearned for human contact and Harry was thrilled that he was letting him give it to him.

Harry realised that his fingers had ended up twining through Draco's hair, gently teasing at the short blond strands. He hastily but gently moved away, a little worried about his behaviour, and planning on having sharp words with his subconscious as soon as possible. Draco didn't notice anything amiss and sat up straight, picking up his biscuit again and staring moodily out over the table.

"I-" Harry began but he was stopped as there was a smart rapping at the kitchen window. "Oh for Gods sake," he snapped, walking over and unlocking the window to let the familiar brown owl in which swopped in and sat on the table blinking stupidly up at him. He _hated_ that creature. It may have been beautiful but it was thick. It lost post, delivered things to the wrong people and went missing for days on end. Harry couldn't understand why Ginny insisted on using the damn creature.

Harry took the letter off of it and pointed back out of the kitchen window. "Go on, fuck off."

The owl looked at him, well, owlishly, and then took off, Harry slamming the window behind it.

"Stupid fucking owl," Harry muttered, flipping the letter over in his hand. Draco was watching from the other side of the table, looking mildly interested in the proceedings.

Harry tore the letter open and began reading, rubbing his forehead.

_Harry_

_I'll keep it brief. Ginny came to see me this morning and asked if she could stay with me but I only got half an explanation which has left me more confused than before. Can you meet me as soon as possible in the Sphinx and Dragon? I want to know you're OK. Drinks are on me,_

_Neville._

Harry smiled, folding the letter up and slipping it into his pocket. He couldn't be cross with Neville; he knew that his friend wouldn't be trying to interfere but was probably just confused as hell and wanted both sides of the story before getting involved.

"I've got to nip out for a bit, you going to be okay here?" Harry asked Draco who was watching him intently.

Draco raised his eyebrows, clearly inviting further explanation.

"Something's come up with the Ginny situation," Harry said, his smile widening as he thought about seeing Neville. Between his training and Neville's busy schedule which took him all over the world in search of rare and exotic plants for Hermione's potions team to work with, he didn't see the clumsy Gryffindor often.

He glanced over to Draco, who gave a jerky nod of his head.

"Right, I've got to shower and change and then I'm going to the Sphinx and Dragon in Diagon Alley, I'll only be about an hour," Harry said distractedly, walking towards the kitchen door. Draco gave another curt nod and Harry left him to go shower and change. He left the house too quickly to notice the dark shadow that stole over Draco's face, the way his shoulders started to tremble, or how his hands clenched into fists atop the table.

* * *

"Great to see you, mate," Harry said as he seized Neville Longbottom in a huge hug, making the other man laugh and squirm somewhat uncomfortably.

"Yeah, just a shame it's not under better circumstances," Neville said regretfully, sliding into the same booth Harry and Hermione had occupied when they had last had lunch in the Sphinx and Dragon

"Go on, then. Ask. I bet you're dying to," Harry said good-naturedly as Neville passed him a butterbeer.

"Rumour has it you've found Draco Malfoy and moved in him into your house for no good reason other than you've gone a bit crazy," Neville said promptly.

"No, it's not like that," Harry said, torn between exasperation and amusement. "He's not been well, I'm taking care of him. He was in Saint Mungo's."

Neville nodded slowly and Harry could tell he was thinking carefully about what to say. It was what made Neville different from him and Ron; he thought a little more before words came out of his mouth.

"Ginny wants you to get rid of him," Neville said cautiously.

"That's not something I can do," Harry said, trying not to get irritated.

"Harry, this is _Malfoy," _Neville said. As level headed as Neville was, Harry suspected that he couldn't ever completely forgive Malfoy for the way he had behaved in school.

"I know," Harry said shortly. "He's not the same as he was- don't make me try and explain it."

"You hated him," Neville said.

"Yes I did. And now we grew up, things happened and now I quite like the git."

Neville looked at Harry in wonder, sighing and taking a mouthful of his butterbeer. "Okay," he said. "But you do realise that if you don't get rid of him, you're going to lose Ginny. That's not an exaggeration. She'll leave you."

Harry didn't reply, just stared down moodily at his untouched drink.

"Harry!" Neville said, sounding a little shocked. "Ginny will _leave_ you if you don't move Malfoy out of your house."

"She's said that to you?" Harry asked carefully.

"Well, yes, but not in such an eloquent way and with a lot more swearing," Neville said, giving Harry a weak grin.

Harry didn't return it. He was furious. Who was Ginny to be issuing ultimatums like that? He was so busy seething that he almost missed Neville's next urgent comment.

"-want to help him but it's not worth losing Ginny over."

"To me it is," Harry bit back, and was met with a ringing silence and Neville looking gobsmacked.

"You're picking Malfoy, over Ginny?" he said in disbelief.

"I'm not picking anyone, why does it have to be one or the other?" Harry exclaimed.

"Come on Harry, you can't save everyone you know," Neville said.

"What?" Harry asked, locking eyes with Neville who had the grace to blush slightly.

"You know…you've always saved people…you've got kind of…"

"Say it, Neville," Harry said, crossing his arms across his chest.

"A saving people thing," Neville finally said, his face flushing deeper pink as he unintentionally parroted Ron's words from years ago. "Ginny said you like saving people, and now you want to save Malfoy."

"I want to help him because he doesn't deserve to die," Harry said heatedly, standing up. "And you know what? I'm glad I've got a _saving people thing_ because it's keeping him alive right now. You can all say what you want, but I'm going to save Malfoy if it's the last bloody thing I do."

"Harry," Neville pleaded, grabbing his sleeve as Harry turned to storm away. "But, Ginny said-"

"Tell Ginny to fuck off," Harry snapped, his temper finally spilling over. Shock crossed Neville's features and he let go of Harry's sleeve, looking sadly to Harry's still untouched drink as Harry disappeared from view.

* * *

Harry slammed the front door to Twelve Grimmauld place as hard as he possibly could, inwardly cursing everyone from Ginny to the Minister for Magic to the guy who did accounts for the Quidditch team for being complete _idiots._

He double locked the door with two vicious jabs of his wand and turned, wanting nothing more than to just curl up on his sofa in front of the television for a while but something caught his eye and he froze.

Blood.

There was a crimson streak on the banister, and Harry's horrified eyes saw spattered drops on the stairs, going up as far as he could see, a morbid trail that froze his blood in his veins and made his heart scream. His brain slowly broke through the paralysing terror that was keeping him rooted to the spot, and screamed _move, _andhis feet were forced to obey. He staggered forwards, grabbing the blood slicked banister and scrambling up the stairs as fast as his legs could take him.


	11. For your future

**Chapter 11: For your future**

Harry hadn't been this scared in a long time; so scared that he was fighting the urge to be sick, stomach tense and heaving. There was just so much blood, on the stairs and the banisters and even on the walls, and he knew it had come from Draco and he knew it was his fault for leaving him alone in the house.

The trail of blood led Harry all the way up to Draco's room, the door shut tightly and the handle smeared crimson. Harry didn't even stop to contemplate knocking; wrenching the door open with violently shaking hands.

"_Draco!_"

The blond was slumped against the bookshelf and for one heart wrenching moment Harry thought he was dead. His long legs were stretched out in front of him and his left hand was clasping his right tightly, holding it against his chest, his head bowed in a cruel imitation of prayer.

There was blood everywhere; all over his arms, on the carpet, even in his hair. Harry raced across to him and fell onto his knees, looking horrified, a steady mantra of _please be alive, please be alive, please be alive _echoing through his head.

"Draco," he repeated, reaching out and taking the blonds head in his hands, lifting his face up and leaving red smears across his cheeks.

"Draco, please, come on- you've got to be okay," Harry begged, painfully aware that his words would do no good. Words never did any good.

An eternity passed and Harry felt despair welling inside him like storm clouds that brewed over the ocean; threatening to crash over him and break his heart and make him follow wherever Draco had gone. A scream was rising in Harry's throat, and it _hurt_, it was like physical pain-

Draco's eyes opened.

So, so slowly, his eyelids fluttered and the opened, grey eyes swimming and then locking on Harry.

Harry had never been so thankful to look someone in the eye. Relief washed over him with such intensity that it was almost as painful as the despair that had threatened to crush his heart and lungs not two seconds ago. "What have you done?" he managed to whisper when he remembered to breathe again.

Draco blinked slowly and then he looked away from Harry, letting go of his right hand and holding it out to Harry, gritting his teeth in pain.

"Fuck," Harry breathed, gently taking Draco's hand in his. It was still gently bleeding from the wound in the centre of Draco's palm. Harry gingerly flipped Draco's hand over and fought the urge to gag; the wound went from one side to the other, straight through his hand.

"What did you do?" Harry asked urgently. Draco winced, clenching his eyes shut and then shook his head.

"Draco," Harry repeated, trying to keep calm. "Is this all?"

Draco nodded slowly and Harry breathed a sigh of relief, reaching into his pocket to pull out his wand. "This will hurt," he warned before healing Draco's hand with a charm.

A strangled noise that was half-shout, half-sob escaped Draco's throat as the wound on his hand healed over. Harry looked up at his face and saw tears sliding perfect tracks down Draco's cheeks even though the man wasn't moving or making a sound.

In silence, Harry conjured a warm wet towel and slowly set about cleaning the blood from Draco's pale skin, not even noticing the tears that mirrored Draco's rolling down his own cheeks. Draco let him do it, looking exhausted and leaning back with his head against the bookshelf.

Harry didn't say a word as he dried Draco's skin, forcing himself to not think about anything but the task in hand as he fixed the blond up. He couldn't.

Long minutes later, task completed, Harry vanished the cloth with a flick of his wand and putting his hand under the Draco's chin to make him look up at him. Draco raised his head and opened his eyes but didn't look at Harry. "Draco," Harry said gently, but Draco still looked away.

"You need to tell me what's happened," Harry said, not relinquishing his hold on Draco's chin. "I can't help you if you don't let me in."

"I never would have killed him."

Whatever Harry had been expecting, it wasn't that. He had purposely not spoken to Draco about anything concerning Dumbledore or the war, but now here they were, broaching the subject under Draco's own volition.

"I never wanted to kill anyone," Draco continued, in a calm voice that was unnerving Harry slightly, at odds with the tears that still leaked down his face unchecked.

"I know you wouldn't," Harry said, gently rubbing Draco's jaw with his thumb.

Draco seemed to awaken at the gesture and his eyes turned to Harry. "I'm sorry," he said helplessly.

"Why'd you do it?" Harry asked, not lowering his hand.

"I don't know…I just…" Draco swallowed thickly. "I'm not good at this."

"You're doing better than I ever imagined you could," Harry said honestly. "Whatever you choose to say, I'm not going to judge or anything."

Draco nodded once and then opened his mouth once more, his words coming out in a rush as if he were trying to get it over and done with as quickly as possible. "You got that letter from Weasley this morning. Ginny. And you looked so happy about it and left so quick and I just knew you two had worked things out and that would mean she'd come back here and I'd have to leave and go back to the hospital, or go back to the Manor, and I don't want to leave here. I don't want to leave you."

Harry's brain had to take a moment to catch up with Draco's words but when it did he was both bewildered and thrilled.

"I didn't go and meet Ginny," he said, confused. "I went to see Neville _about_ Ginny."

"But you said something had come up with Ginny, and then you got all _smiley_ and then you ran off without even saying goodbye and then I just couldn't think about-"

"Malfoy, calm down!" Harry said, bringing his other hand up to hold Draco's face still and make him look at him. "I didn't go to meet Ginny, she went to Neville and he wanted to find out the whole story instead of just taking her word for it. I'm sorry, I didn't realise that that's what you thought…I didn't mean to confuse you," Harry said, letting Draco go.

"It was stupid. I didn't think," Draco said miserably.

"So…you did this because you thought I was going to make you leave?" Harry asked, shifting round to lean against the bookshelf, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Draco, catching the blond's right hand and checking to see if it were properly healed. There was an angry red mark, but other than that there was no trace of the damage Draco had done to himself. Harry knew it would be tender for a few days but Draco didn't look like he was in any pain anymore.

"No, I didn't say…well that's not it," Draco said, stumbling over his words. "Partly." He admitted.

"What else?" Harry prompted.

"That started it, then I started thinking about other stuff and I got so wound up I just-" he made a violent gesture with his hand, and Harry shuddered. Draco shook his head. "I had to do something, I felt like my mind was going to explode."

"What other stuff were you thinking about?" Harry asked him gently.

"It was thinking about… I got thinking about everything you told me about you and _her_, and about Granger and Weasley, and I realised I'm never going to have that again," Draco said, beginning to sound a little agitated.

"What? Don't be daft," Harry began.

"I'm not being daft! I'm a depressed, borderline psychotic, ex-death eater with a million bad habits and a worse reputation," Draco ranted. "You are the _only_ person to give me the time of day since the war, and even if I can get over losing all my friends and family, it's so hard knowing I'll never have anything in the future."

"You will," Harry tried to reassure him but the blond's mood had taken another violent U-turn, going from quiet and miserable to overly agitated in the space of less than a minute.

"No, you don't get it!" Draco tried to tug his hand out of Harry's but he held firm, drinking in every word that spilled out of Draco's mouth.

"I do, and I know what it feels like to think you won't have a future," Harry said patiently.

"But you got yours anyway," Draco said, rubbing his face with his free hand and clearing away the tear tracks. "You got the girl, and your bloody golden trio is still intact and your job is amazing…I know I'm never going to have that - I'm never going to get a job anywhere, I can't go out in public without being hexed, no-ones going to love me, I'll never even be fucking kissed again-"

"You're being ridiculous-" Harry said.

"No, I'm not, you know all of that is true-" Draco was nearly shouting.

"I _know_ it's not true, you've just got to believe it-" Harry replied earnestly.

"I can't," Draco said, twisting round to face Harry, his eyes burning with a million different thoughts and feelings. "I don't have a fucking-"

Harry cut him off by taking hold of Draco's face and kissing him square on the mouth.

Draco made a startled noise that sounded something like "mmf!" before Harry pulled back, breathing heavily through his nose and staring a shocked looking Draco in the eye.

"Well that's proved you wrong already," Harry said matter of factly. "Never going to be kissed again, my arse."

Draco opened and shut his mouth several times in succession but failed to form any words. Harry rolled his eyes and smiled at the sight of the blond reduced to gaping like a hungry goldfish, letting go of him and standing up. He licked his lips as he held out his hands to pull the blond to his feet and a shock went through him; he could _taste_ Draco on his lips and it was…well it was _awesome_.

"Come on, let's go get you lunch," Harry said, a little disorientated. "We'll stick the television on and sit in the lounge."

"The tell-vision?" Draco repeated carefully.

Harry chuckled. "You are unbelievable."

* * *

"So he's meant to be with her, but she's trying to run away with him? But I thought they couldn't go away because she was having a baby-"

"Malfoy, I have no idea what is going on," Harry said, thoroughly amused.

Draco was wide eyed, staring at the television without blinking, eating his way through a huge bar of Honeyduke's chocolate that Harry had given him after they'd eaten a proper meal. Harry could now add to his list of odd things that he knew about Draco; he had an unhealthy sweet tooth, was very 'protective' over the television remote and apparently had a penchant for Muggle soap operas.

"Why not? I thought you watched the television," Draco said, not looking away from the screen. It was as if earlier had never happened but Harry wasn't going to bring it up and unsettle Draco whilst he was heading in a decidedly more cheerful direction.

"This isn't the only thing they show on the television," Harry told him.

"There's more?" Draco asked, his eyes snapping to Harry and looking thrilled.

"I can't keep up with you," Harry laughed, reaching over to snap a piece of chocolate off of the bar Draco held in his hands. "You change your moods more often than the Cannons change keepers."

"It used to drive Pansy mad," Draco said. "I know I do it but I can't help it. She always wanted to know why but sometimes even I don't know."

"Do you miss her?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Pansy? No," Draco said.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "I thought she was your girlfriend for like…six years?"

Draco froze as he was about to bite a chunk off of the bar of chocolate, turning a frown Harry's way and taking the chocolate bar out of his mouth. "She was never my girlfriend," he said.

"What? You're lying!" Harry said incredulously.

"Not," Draco replied, his eyes turning back towards the television. "I never kissed her, not once."

"So you don't miss her?" Harry asked.

"Not really. She was a pain a lot of the time and always wanted things from me I couldn't give. It was a lot of pressure," Draco said a little cryptically.

"Like what?" Harry asked, completely intrigued.

"Well- me," Draco said with a wry smile as Harrys eyebrows flew up into his hair.

"And you wouldn't give that, why?" Harry asked.

"I think it was more of a couldn't," Draco said vaguely, looking back at the programme. "Now shut up so I can find out whose baby that is."

* * *

Harry cursed softly under his breath and rolled over for what felt like the millionth time that night. He and Draco had spent the whole day together, staying up late into the night talking, and he should by all rights have passed out asleep the moment his head touched the pillow.

For some reason, Harry couldn't sleep. He knew Draco was fast asleep because he had checked on him half an hour after the blond had gone up to bed, but slumber eluded Harry.

The taste of Draco on his skin after Harry had kissed him to prove a point keeping coming back to him, and he couldn't stop thinking about it. He was completely thrown; he had only done it to show Draco he was wrong but now it just would not go away.

Ginny always tasted of nothing - Harry never found fault with kissing her, but he was starting to wonder if that was enough. Hermione's small sad smile that she gave him whenever they talked about Ginny flashed through his mind and Harry felt something unfurl in his chest - something that felt suspiciously like doubt. Was it really good enough to simply not find fault with something? Until the argument over the Malfoy situation, he knew there hadn't been anything wrong between him and Ginny, but now he wasn't sure that that made it _right_.

There was another niggle in Harry's brain that wouldn't shift either - something that was confusing the hell out of him. As much as he tried to ignore it, the fact of the matter was that after the previous night, Harry found himself missing Draco being in his bed. He couldn't lie - he fucking missed having the warm body next to him, which opened up a whole new avenue of panicked questions.

He had never missed Ginny being beside him, so why was he missing Draco? It made no sense. The tumult of thoughts tossed around his head and it wasn't until the early hours of the morning that his eyes finally shut and he fell asleep, his dreams punctured with images of drops of blood, blond hair and burning grey eyes.


	12. Skydiving

**Chapter 12: Skydiving**

"You know I've got to go to training, there's nothing I can do-"

"You can fuck off for all I care!"

"You don't mean that, so stop it!"

"Fuck you."

"You're a nightmare, you bloody know that?"

Harry was frazzled. It was two days after Draco had injured himself and what Harry had labelled in his mind as 'the Draco-kissing-incident', and Draco was being unbearable, and had been since the moment he woke up the day after.

He was snapping, swearing, slamming doors, refusing to eat anything that wasn't sugary Honeyduke's sweets, and Harry noticed he often appeared after absences red eyed from crying. However, when Harry had asked him about it, Draco had hurled a book at him and called Harry every bad name he'd ever heard, as well as a few Harry was sure he'd made up.

"Chuck me out then," Draco sneered.

"You know I'm not going to do that," Harry said, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

"Dick," Draco snapped, storming out of the kitchen and slamming the door with as much force as he could muster.

Harry looked at the ceiling and slowly counted to ten. Draco was driving him spare, and it was taking every grain of patience he owned _and_ some he'd borrowed from somewhere to not get angry with him. He held onto the thought that in a strange way he was sort of thankful for Draco's behaviour; this version of Draco was horrible and Harry _did_ want to throttle him, but on the flip-side at least he was being something other than the blank, emotionless and silent Draco that Harry hated to see so much.

_He'll grow out of it_, Harry thought glumly, wincing as he heard another door slam higher up the house. _Probably._

* * *

Draco was not happy. It had been a whole fucking week since Potter had kissed him and the stupid man hadn't even mentioned it. Worse than that, he didn't even seem to think it was of any importance, when it had kept Draco up every night and had him being assaulted by inappropriate dreams about the idiot on more than one occasion.

Draco was once again torn, feeling like he had done in Saint Mungo's. He was thrilled that he was starting to feel more human again and that his emotions were slowly coming back to him, as well as his magic which he sometimes felt shimmering under his skin at strange random moments. However, the happiness was short lived as it was always overwhelmed by something a lot bigger and more threatening.

He didn't like Potter. He _liked_ Potter.

Ever since he had spent the night with Harry it had been there, sitting in the back of his mind and being resolutely ignored. And then the idiot had kissed him and had ruined everything. Dangling a fucking thing like that in front of Draco's heart when they were having a conversation about futures? Doing stupid things without even thinking of the consequences or the effect on anyone else? Draco wanted to kill him. Or kiss him again. He really couldn't work out which.

So Draco had done exactly what he was used to doing in these situations. He had bottled everything inside, put his obnoxious mask on and acted like a complete dick.

Potter had remained impervious to all of Draco's threats and insults and by the time a week had passed, Draco was exhausted. He was fed up of Potter not fighting back, shocked at the way he was feeling, and more than anything, ashamed. He was ashamed at how he was treating Harry, and he was ashamed that he had forgotten all about his Mother in the wake of thinking about said idiot. This revelation had only increased his determination to be such a twat to Harry that he would chuck Draco out and then the problem would be solved.

His resolve and stubbornness carried him along this path for a full week - a long, torturous week in which Draco had a constant headache from crying and stomach pains from refusing Harry's carefully prepared food on top of everything else. One whole week, until he broke. He had been stood in the library, looking idly through the books when he had been assaulted by a memory of standing with his mother in the library of the manor when he was sixteen, exchanging amused barbs with her about the others terrible taste in literature.

His knees gave and he found himself sprawled on the floor, feeling suffocated, wanting to get help, wanting to go and find Harry and be wrapped in his arms-

The thought stopped dead in his mind and he re-examined it. He wanted Harry. Harry Potter, the wonderful man Draco had grown not only to tolerate, but to enjoy being with. The way Harry spoke, how he treated people, the stories he told, his dedication to his job, his habits that Draco was sure only he'd ever noticed - they drove Draco _mad_ but he liked them all. He wanted to go to him, but had spent a whole week pushing the Gryffindor away with atrocious behaviour for the sole reason that Draco was too scared to trust his feelings and believe that something _good_ could just happen.

It was suddenly clear. It was as if a light had gone on in Draco's head, a fierce rush flooding his body. As much as it irked him to admit it, Harry had been right all that time ago in the hospital…his Mother would hate to see Draco like this, shutting himself off and not letting anyone in.

Draco picked himself up, distractedly brushing tears off of his cheeks with the back of his hand. So. It was time to act like a Gryffindor and take a risk. If it wasn't too late and Harry still wanted to help…Draco was going to let him.

* * *

Harry came home from training drenched to the bone and utterly exhausted. Training had been a farce - it came to light today that their second chaser and one of the beaters had had a drunken tryst that had turned sour and the animosity had spilled over onto the pitch. That, coupled with Harry being snappish and unfocused after a week dealing with hell-spawn Draco meant Annabelle had lost her temper with the team - big style - and sent them all home.

Opening the front door, Harry went in and immediately stopped cautiously as he kicked the front door shut behind him; Draco was there, sat on the stairs, three steps up from the bottom. His eyes were red and puffy and he was hiccupping slightly as if he were trying not to cry.

The Firebolt was propped carefully against the wall and Harry warily took a couple of steps towards the blond. When nothing happened other than Draco continuing to stare at Harry with those damn eyes, Harry took it as a good sign and went to kneel on the step on front of Draco, absently noticing that his Quidditch gear was dripping water all over the floor.

Draco didn't seem to care; he leant forwards quickly and grabbed Harry round his neck in a hug that bowled them both over backwards, Harry letting out a strangled yelp as he found himself on his back on the hall floor with Draco atop him.

"Is this some sort of evil plan or is this you apologising for being a complete arsehole?" Harry asked breathily, taken aback by Draco's sudden fierce embrace.

"The latter," Draco said, his voice muffled as his face was buried in the crook of Harry's neck.

Harry smiled and gently ran his hands up and down Draco's back. He couldn't be mad; if anything he was thrilled that Draco had made the move to come back to him without Harry having to forcibly drag him.

"You're an idiot you know," Harry said. "And you owe me _big time_ for this past week."

"I know," Draco said and lifted his head to look down at Harry who was smiling at him bemusedly.

"So. How about…ordering pizza, watching more crap TV and then bed?" Harry said and Draco nodded, getting up awkwardly and helping pull Harry up. They both hovered sheepishly for a moment and then moved at the same time, wrapping each other up in a gentle hug before breaking apart with hidden smiles.

* * *

Draco was nervous. He was nervous, because he felt happy. Harry had declared a celebration in honour of '_Draco no longer behaving like a twat,_' and so they found themselves laid on the sofa in the sitting room, which Harry had transfigured into a sofa-bed, complete with mounds of pillows and comfy blankets, eating pizza and ignoring the television in favour of talking.

Holding back was not on Draco's agenda tonight. Every question Harry asked him, he answered. Every subject Harry seemed interested in, he spoke about. He spoke of his Mother, his favourite food, his Father, his favourite subject in school, his time in Azkaban, his childhood, his views on Quidditch, his time in school, the Mark on his arm, books he liked to read, everything. It felt uncomfortable and wonderful at the same time, to have someone here to listen to everything Draco had to say, the good and the bad alike.

Harry watched Draco with something akin to wonder as the blond spoke more freely than Harry ever imagined he could or would, and speculated about what had happened that day to mark such a change in Draco's demeanour. Harry wasn't complaining though; on the contrary his heart was fit to burst with pride at how Draco had swallowed both his own misplaced pride and stubbornness and let Harry in.

The Slytherin was still sharp and sarcastic but Harry found Draco's dry sense of humour and blunt nature actually quite entertaining when the barbs and mockery weren't aimed at him. He had laughed himself silly at the expense of many of their old school mates who Draco had mercilessly torn to pieces, Harry egging him on shamelessly before they hiccoughed into a comfortable silence, smiles on both their faces.

They were half watching the television, both full of food and content in each others company when Draco spoke quietly.

"Potter, can I try something?"

"What?" Harry asked sleepily.

"Can I borrow your wand?"

Harry sat up, leaning on his elbows and looking down at the blond who was still laid on his back, his eyes on Harry. He slowly nodded and then reached down to pick up his wand from the floor next to their improvised sofa-bed, passing it to Draco.

"Lumos," Draco said clearly and Harry saw delight flare across his face as the tip of the wand ignited for a fraction of a second before going out.

"Did you see that?" Draco said, smiling broadly. Harry watched Draco's face, transfixed as the blond beamed at him, passing the wand back. He had never seen Draco smile like that, and he realised with a lurch that he found that expression on Draco's face to be what anyone willing to admit would call attractive.

"It's still not right…but I felt it coming back," Draco explained and Harry nodded.

"It'll take a while," he agreed. "You're getting better, but you're not there completely yet."

"No, I'm not," Draco paused as Harry dropped his wand back onto the floor and laid back down, shoulder to shoulder with him. "But…today I decided I want to be."

Harry felt a thrill run through him at the words. The talking, a smile, and now this? Something _big_ must have happened to Draco today. "I thought something had changed," Harry said softly and carefully, looking up at the ceiling.

"Something has changed," Draco said in a strange voice.

Harry rolled his head to the side to look at Draco and saw Draco had mirrored his pose; laid on his back with his shoulder touching Harry's and their faces angled towards each other only a few inches apart.

Draco was so close that Harry could taste his breath on his face, and _fuck, _it tasted just like the kiss had done. Harry breathed in sharply as slender fingers suddenly found his wrist, and then stole down to his hand that was laid by his side in-between them. Draco's trembling fingers laced through his and then stilled, Draco's eyes never leaving Harry's.

"I'm glad," Harry whispered. "That you're getting better," he added.

"Really?" Draco asked, unable to look away from those green eyes now he'd gazed into them.

"Yeah," Harry breathed, and he could swear Draco was getting closer- or maybe it was him moving, he couldn't be sure, and then their noses touched and he shut his eyes.

Draco's nose rubbed so slightly against his as the blond nodded his head in a sleepy manner, and Harry could feel his breath on his face again, that intoxicating taste overwhelming him once more, making him forget about everything in the word except the boy next to him and the hand holding his.

Harry moved slightly, his eyes still shut and his nose slipped past Draco's, God, they must be so close together now and why didn't this feel wrong, _oh God,_ he just couldn't convince himself this was a bad idea-

They stayed there for a long moment, a moment that Harry pinpointed to being somewhere between minutes and weeks. Harry felt drunk, giddy with the smell and taste of the blond next to him, his whole body tingling. And then one of them moved and neither cared which one, and their lips touched; one long, delicious, fluttering kiss before Draco - it was definitely Draco, Harry couldn't have moved if his life depended on it - moved back and settled once more with his nose resting against Harry's, his breathing heavier than before and his fingers tightening on Harry's.

Harry decided at that moment he could move again - he _had_ to - and leant forwards again, capturing Draco's lips in another kiss, firmer than the last and full of burning intensity. Draco's breath caught in the back of his throat and then they both moved; they rolled towards each other and Draco let go of Harry's fingers to put a hesitant and trembling hand on Harry's waist.

Harry deepened the kiss, pulling Draco closer to him and feeling something more than tingles -they'd been upgraded to something reminiscent of electric shocks- run through his body as the blondes tongue gently ran along Harry's lower lip. Harry responded, his tongue coming out to meet Draco's and leaning up slightly, desperate for the kiss to continue.

Draco didn't disappoint; he kissed Harry slowly and gently, responding to every move of Harry's lips and tongue, gasping into Harry's mouth as a hand came up to gently thread into his hair as they kissed.

What seemed like lifetimes later, Harry ghosted one last kiss onto Draco's swollen lips, moving back slightly and opening his eyes. Draco's opened a fraction of a second after his and held Harry's gaze, his heavy breath matching Harry's and his eyes aflame.

Neither said anything. They didn't need to. Harry rolled onto his back and Draco moved with him; nestling into Harry's side with his head resting in the crook of Harry's collarbone and his knee slipping over Harry's legs as Harry's arms wrapped around him. Harry could feel Draco falling asleep, told to him by the movement of Draco's chest as his breathing became slow and steady. Harry willingly followed suit, the only thought on his mind before sleep claimed him was that he could live ten times over and never tire of the taste of Draco Malfoy.


	13. Calm before the storm

**Chapter 13: Calm before the storm**

It took Harry a whole eight hours and twenty-two minutes to panic about what had happened between him and Draco. This was because he had been asleep for eight hours and twenty-one of them.

He woke up with a warm body laid behind him, curving around him with a slender but strong arm wrapped round his waist. He laid there for a sleepy minute enjoying the comfort of the embrace, but as Draco moved in his sleep and his face nuzzled the back of Harry's neck, Harry was immediately bombarded with memories and sensations; all of them pleasant and all of them fucking terrifying.

He had kissed Draco. Holy shit, he had not just _kissed_ him, he had had his bloody tongue in Draco Malfoy's mouth and he'd _liked_ it. More than liked it- he wanted nothing more to wake the blond up, jump on him and do it all again, all day long if necessary. It was that mad urge that made Harry scramble off of the sofa bed, his heart hammering.

What the hell was going on? Kissing Ginny wasn't like that - nothing had ever been like that. Harry's panic ratcheted up several notices as he looked down on Draco, who was still fast asleep despite Harry's prompt exit from beside him; he couldn't summon up a nuance of regret, or _anything_ negative that would make this situation normal. Sure, he could claim that it was wrong because Draco was a man, or he was an ex-Death eater, or because he was a complete idiot, but Harry couldn't make himself believe any of it.

Harry backed out of the sitting room, shutting the door behind him softly and cursing under his breath before making a hasty decision. He needed to go and talk to someone, before he got any crazier than he appeared to already have done.

* * *

Ron Weasley gave another tremendous yawn as he tapped the till with his wand, making it shoot open with a crash. He would never get used to being up early, even after two years of working alongside George in Weasleys Wizard Wheezes. Especially on a Saturday- the one day of the week that Hermione would still be asleep in bed when he had to get out of it.

Ron stopped, blinking hard, his sleep fogged brain trying to remember what he had to do next, when he heard a hammering on the door of the shop. Great. This was a common occurrence; either people trying to get in and buy products bright and early, or people who had fallen victim to a variety of WWW products and were furious and demanding to be fixed.

"Who's that?" George's voice came from somewhere in the back.

"No idea," Ron replied.

"Tell them to bugger off," George called impatiently.

"Bugger off! We're open in an hour!" Ron shouted and the hammering stopped.

"Ron, it's me! Let me in!"

Ron immediately leapt towards the door upon hearing Harry's frantic voice, unlocking it and bundling him through it before any over eager patrons thought the shop was opening for business.

"Harry, what the hell?" Ron asked, turning to look at his best friend who looked thoroughly wide eyed and rumpled, a style that Molly Weasley would sternly call 'completely unpresentable'.

"I, erm, need to talk to someone. Advice." Harry said, running his hands through his hair and making it look even worse.

"Harry, it's half past eight in the morning," Ron said wearily. "You really need advice at half past eight in the morning?"

"Yeah, I know. Well, I didn't know. It can't wait."

Ron gave a long suffering sigh and led him to the back of the shop where George looked up, surprised, as the pair came in.

"Harry! What are you doing here?" he asked.

"He's having a crisis," Ron informed George who nodded, making Harry wonder how much he knew about the situation. Given that he was Ron and Ginny's brother, and that his latest prototype was a set of Extra-Extendible-Ears, Harry suspected he knew a lot.

"Right. I'll make myself scarce then," George said heartily as Ron and Harry sat down on the two rickety chairs that were in the back room. Before he could leave, however, Ron caught his sleeve and frowned, holding out his hand expectantly.

George rolled his eyes, and much to Harry's amusement pulled out a bundle of extendable ears from his pocket, slapping them in Ron's palm. He narrowed his eyes and pointed at Ron, but seemed to think better of saying anything, turning and stomping off instead.

"Won't he just get some more from the shop?" Harry asked.

"No," Ron assured him. "We've made the point that this isn't to be listened to so he'll butt out."

Harry chuckled. "Fair enough."

"So- crisis?" Ron asked, yawning again and stretching.

"Erm. Yeah. Well, the thing is…" Harry trailed off and then spoke quickly, his words tumbling over each other. "What would you do if you did something that you shouldn't have done and you wanted to feel bad about it but you didn't?"

Ron eyed Harry for a long moment, his lips moving slightly as he repeated Harry's words to himself. "So…you've done something wrong?"

"No! But…what if I had. You had," Harry prompted. "Hypothetically."

"Should I hypothetically feel bad about this whatever I've hypothetically done?" Ron asked carefully.

"Yes," Harry replied promptly. "But you don't."

"How bad is it?" Ron asked. "Have I forgotten an order form for the store, or say…dropped one of Hermione's potions?"

Harry looked horrified. "Nothing _that_ bad-" he said and then paused, a worried frown crossing his features. "Oh God, it is that bad. I'm going to be murdered."

"Harry mate, this would be a lot easier if you tell me what you've done," Ron said, abandoning all pretence and stifling another yawn as Harry buried his face in his hands.

"I can't," Harry said heavily. "You might murder me, too."

"I'm going to make an educated guess. Is it Ginny who will murder you?" Ron asked flatly.

Harry nodded, once. "And possibly Hermione. I don't know."

"So the situation has something to do with Malfoy," Ron continued.

"Yes," Harry groaned into his hands.

"Have you killed him?" Ron asked.

Harry lowered his hands, shaking his head. "No! That's the problem."

"You want to kill him?" Ron suggested.

"No! I _don't_ want to kill him, that's the problem! he's been driving me spare, Ron, he even bloody threw a book at me the other day - but I just can't seem to get mad at him!"

Ron watched Harry for a moment, his gaze worryingly like Hermione's, before speaking again and choosing his words _very_ carefully. "Harry, mate, I don't think it's a problem. Sure, everyone expects you to hate Malfoy, but if you don't, surely that's a bonus?"

"I definitely don't hate him," Harry said fervently, more to himself than Ron.

"So this could be a good thing?" Ron said hesitantly. "You and Malfoy being friends, I mean," He added hastily.

"Friends. Yeah," Harry said distractedly, remembering the feel of Malfoy's hand on his waist, the way Draco had gently bit down on Harry's lip with a tenderness that Harry didn't think he would be capable of, the way his hair felt under his hand; short and fine, so different to Ginny's. Shit. Ginny.

"Ginny _is_ going to murder me," Harry said suddenly, looking thoroughly unhappy.

"She won't," Ron said. "Hermione's been on Ginny watch - that's why you've not heard from either of them in a while," he informed Harry. "She's doing her best to keep Ginny from interfering and kind of…steering her in the right direction. Like not letting her get mad at you, explaining why you've had to do this. I don't know how much is going in, but she's having a go anyway."

"You two are amazing," Harry said fervently.

Ron waved him away with a shrug of his hand. "Harry…" he said slowly and Harry braced himself. "How do you feel about Ginny right now?"

Oh. "Erm…I haven't thought about her much," Harry admitted. "I've had a lot of my plate. Living with Malfoy, it's like being on a rollercoaster."

"How's he getting on?" Ron asked.

"Fine. More than fine. Well, something's changed, I think it's a good thing for him. For us. No, for him. Well-" Harry found himself babbling again and stood up hastily before he could say anything else. "Ron I better go, if he wakes up and I'm not there he'll get mad and it's not worth the hassle. Yeah. I'll see you later."

Harry tripped over both his chair and a box of merchandise on his way out, leaving Ron looking both exasperated and highly amused.

"What's up with him?" George asked, instantly appearing in the back room as soon as they heard the shop door shut.

Ron gave a snort, heaving himself out of his chair and stretching so all his bones cracked in a satisfying way. "I think Harry has finally worked out what we all worked out a long time ago."

* * *

Harry rushed home but he needn't have worried. Draco was still fast asleep when he got back, sprawled out on the side of the sofa bed that Harry had previously occupied.

The sofa bed looked incredibly inviting and he contemplated getting back under the covers with Draco but held himself in check. He couldn't let this get out of hand, no matter how much a small selfish part of him wanted it to. Instead he went downstairs and started making a fried breakfast, something which he really shouldn't be eating. He took guilty pleasure in picturing what Annabelle's face would look like if she could see him now.

Predictably, Draco appeared just as Harry was dishing up food and Harry grinned, despite suddenly feeling incredibly nervous. Draco had a sixth sense that told him when food was on the way, not unlike Ron, Harry mused.

"Smells good," Draco said, sitting at the table and resting his chin on his elbows.

"Can't fault your timing," Harry grinned, placing a plate of food and a pot of coffee on the table which Draco seized eagerly.

"Your appetite is coming back I take it," Harry remarked, picking up his own plate and absent-mindedly sitting next to Draco. The blond looked tousled and sleepy and the word _attractive_ once more flitted hazily through Harry's mind.

"Apparently so, I'm starving this morning," Draco said.

"That's what you get for eating nothing but eating chocolate frogs and sugar mice for a week," Harry said, with raised eyebrows.

Draco's mouth was too full of toast to manage a witty retort so he settled himself with glaring at Harry who stuck his tongue out in reply.

Harry was glad for the food in front of him; it was a perfect excuse not to have to talk about what happened the night before. Once again he had half been expecting Draco to freak out and return to the dreaded frame of mind that Harry still tagged hell-spawn-Draco, but Draco seemed perfectly at ease and untroubled, proving Harry wrong yet again.

"What do you want to do today?" Draco asked him suddenly, making him jump.

"Lazy day I think. Training's been hard this week."

"Okay," Draco said through a mouthful of bacon.

"You know with your upbringing I'd expect you to have better table manners," Harry teased.

"I'm hungry," Draco shrugged as way of explanation. "Besides, a lot had changed since then."

"You can say that again," Harry muttered and caught a brief flash of amusement cross Draco's face. Draco turned back to his meal and Harry was about to open his mouth when he felt Draco's leg against his and then an ankle hooked around one of his own.

The same shocks that Harry had felt the previous night ran up his leg and he hastily looked up at Draco, who quickly glanced at him, eyebrows raised ever so slightly. Harry nodded and Draco gave him a small smile before turning back to his food, pouring himself a mug of coffee.

Harry understood perfectly; the gesture was Draco asking for permission to stay physically close to Harry and Harry had consented, both of them letting each other know they were alright with what had happened and they weren't going to make a big deal out of it.

A thrill ran through Harry as he realised he and Draco could talk without even having to say anything- something he knew that Ron and Hermione could do, exchanging feelings, opinions and directions with nothing more than minute movements or facial expressions.

He smiled to himself, his mind wandering back to the kiss last night and feeling his heart promptly speed up. Maybe Ron was right. Maybe this could be a good thing.

* * *

The evening came around and Harry found himself in what was rapidly becoming his favourite place to be; sat on his sofa watching the television with Draco curled up next to him, fast asleep with his head in Harry's lap and one hand resting under his cheek on Harry's thigh.

The television was loud and Harry amused himself for a while wondering how loud it would have to go to wake Draco up. He was a surprisingly heavy sleeper on occasion, and Harry found with delight he could sit and gently run his fingers through the blond hair as much as he wanted without him even twitching in his sleep.

Harry's eyes wandered away from the television and across Draco's sleeping face and down to his lips, the same lips Harry had been thinking obsessively over all day. He hadn't been able to stop looking at Draco, stealing glances when the blond was busy reading or calculating his next move in a game of chess.

A loud bang shook Harry out of his reverie and he tensed, recognising the noise as the front door and praying to any benevolent deity that happened to be anywhere close that it was Hermione or Ron.

"Harry?"

No such luck, Harry thought dejectedly. Now he was going to have to get up and stop stroking Draco's hair and run the risk of waking him and he really didn't want to do that.

_Fuck it, _Harry suddenly thought defiantly. He was going to stay exactly where he was, because firstly he shouldn't have to move for anyone and secondly, he bloody well didn't want to.

He eased the television remote from where it was loosely grasped in Draco's sleeping hand and muted it, leaving the flickering pictures to play on in silence.

"Up here," he called as loudly as he dared and immediately heard familiar footsteps on the stairs. He gave Draco's hair one last gentle tug as the footsteps reaching the landing and then braced himself for the inevitable storm heading his way.


	14. Head over heart

**Chapter 14: Head over heart**

Ginny stood in front of the sofa, her arms folded and staring at Harry in disbelief, her jaw clenched tightly. Her hard gaze flicked down to Draco and Harry could sense her anger building.

"Don't wake him," Harry said quietly.

"What?" Ginny asked sharply.

"Don't. If he wakes up he'll be in a foul mood and I'm not in the mood for refereeing a scrap between you two," Harry said bluntly.

"So he's well enough to fight me, then?" Ginny asked, her voice hard.

"I'd say so," Harry shrugged.

"Then why is he still here?"

Harry rubbed his face with his hands, looking up at her. "That's not what I meant. He's not well enough to be by himself, but he's definitely got his temper back and I'm not sure he'd back down if you picked a fight with him."

"George told me you'd been to see Ron this morning and was panicking about something," Ginny said bluntly, clearly moving the conversation away from Malfoy. "I wanted to know what was going on."

"I'm fine," Harry said, belatedly noticing that was not what she'd asked at all.

"I can see," Ginny said archly, her voice rising.

"Ginny," Harry said softly but leaving her with no doubt of the warning in his tone.

Ginny looked at him, her eyes flicking back and forth between Harry and Draco with a strange look on her face. Finally her voice broke the silence that had stretched out for longer than could ever be considered comfortable.

"If you don't get rid of him by tomorrow, it's over."

"What?" Harry gaped at her but she didn't relent.

"I'm not joking. He goes, or I go."

Harry opened his mouth, an indignant frown on his face but then as he looked down at Draco he shut it again. Ginny's eyes grew impossibly wide as Harry continued to say absolutely nothing.

He didn't miss Ginny. Since Draco had moved into his life he had barely given her a second thought. How could he go back to the way things were when he didn't miss her after weeks of absence but he bloody missed Draco when the git was in a different room in the house? How could he ever kiss Ginny again without remembering the taste of Draco?

His eyes travelled across Draco's face and Harry felt like crying. Ginny was stood there, his best friend, holding a perfect _simple_ future for him. A future everyone had expected - including him - until he had gone through that damn blue door in Saint Mungo's.

"Harry?" Ginny asked, her voice trembling.

Harry looked up at her, and he shrugged.

Ginny stormed away without a backwards glance. She slammed the door behind her, causing Draco to jerk his head up off Harry's lap, looking around dazedly.

"What the hell?" he asked as they heard Ginny's footsteps clatter down the stairs and the front door slam with equal force.

"Ginny," Harry tried to say lightly. "I think I just broke up with my girlfriend without saying a word."

Draco scrambled up, turning to face Harry, his mouth hanging open. "You did what?"

"She…you know what, fuck it. I don't want to talk about her."

"Why not?" Draco demanded and Harry felt shocks run though him under that gaze that was threatening to burn him with the sheer force of its intensity and passion.

Harry swallowed. "Because, it's…I don't know."

"Potter, are you insane?" Draco asked incredulously.

"I think I am," Harry said morosely.

Something must have showed on Harry's face because Draco's expression suddenly changed. His eyes still burned but the demand was gone, replaced with something gentler, more careful.

"Potter…" he began but shook his head, not finishing the sentence. He slowly unfolded his long limbs and climbed off of the sofa, walking towards the door.

Harry watched him go, feeling completely miserable. He didn't want Draco to go, not now.

"Malfoy," Harry called out before he could stop himself.

Draco stopped in the doorway, one hand on the wooden frame and his head bowed.

"Draco," Harry said quietly, trying to ignore the way the word came out like a plea.

Draco slowly, so _slowly_, turned around in the doorway. Harry looked at him helplessly, not knowing what to do, what to say, not knowing if he should even look at the blond or not. Harry did; he couldn't tear his eyes away even as he told himself to. Instead, he watched with anticipation that was making his heart hammer as Draco took slow steps back across the room, giving Harry that _look, _looking at him like no-one ever had before.

Before Harry could register what was happening, Draco had covered the distance between them, climbed onto his lap, pinned him against the back of the sofa and kissed him, hard.

Harry gasped against Draco's mouth as nimble fingers threaded into his hair, holding him in place. _Fuck_, what was he doing- he couldn't be doing this…

Once again all rational thought was driven from his mind as Draco's tongue slid inside his mouth, as hot and as demanding as his questions. Harry responded, desperate to get as close to Draco as possible, desperate just for _him_.

He moved violently, heaving Draco up and throwing him onto his back on the sofa, where he lay, panting and half glaring at Harry. Before Draco could say anything or mistake it as a gesture of negativity on Harry's part, he moved over Draco, straddling him on his hands and knees and leaning down to claim Draco's mouth in another brutal kiss.

Warm hands were stealing under Harry's shirt and grasping his waist hard enough to leave bruises; he allowed himself to be pulled down so his body was flush with Draco's and gasped as he felt the heat from Draco's body pressed to his own. They were kissing frantically, Draco's hands coming back up to grip Harry's hair, god, no-one had ever kissed Harry like that, it was the same as when Draco looked at him...

Harry's blood was pounding in his veins, Draco was far too warm, this felt way too good, too late he realised he that the blood that was apparently bypassing his brain was making a sharp detour to his groin, he was getting far too aroused by this, _oh god…_Harry wrenched his body up away from Draco's, his chest heaving and his face blushing furiously but before he could stammer anything- an apology?- Draco quirked one eyebrow, wrapped his legs around Harry's waist and pulled him back down onto him.

_No…_Panic shot through Harry like lightning, obliterating every pleasant sensation Draco had evoked in him. He scrambled up away from the blond, staggering slightly on his feet as he climbed off of the sofa.

"No," Harry gasped, averting his eyes from Draco who was laid on the sofa, propped up on his elbows and panting, looking thoroughly sex-rumpled and fucking attractive - that damn _word_ again - and clearly as aroused as Harry_._

"No, I can't-" Harry stammered, trying to believe his own words. He could. He could far too easily lie back down on that sofa and strip Draco naked and do every thing he'd never dared dream about to him, but he wasn't going to. This _should_ feel wrong, Harry was getting desperate, _why _didn't this feel wrong?

"Potter-" Draco's voice was way too understanding. Harry couldn't understand- why wasn't he angry, why wasn't he upset? Trembling, Harry shook his head and then turned on his heel, his Gryffindor bravery well and truly abandoning him in the face of Draco and all these feelings that he didn't know what to do with.

He fled to him room, slamming the bedroom door shut and leaning back against it. He shut his eyes tightly and tried to control both his heart which was hammering, and his body which was still ridiculously turned on from the heated kissing with Draco. He banged the back of his head none too lightly against the wood to stop the tears that were threatening to overwhelm him.

Fuck. What had he done?

* * *

"Harry?"

Harry jerked his head off of the kitchen table, blinking stupidly in the bright morning light that was pouring through the window.

"Wha?" he asked dazedly, wincing as his neck screamed in protest after spending god knows how long in such an awkward position.

"Care to explain why you're asleep on your kitchen table when you've got five perfectly good bedrooms in this house?"

"Four," came a second voice. "Malfoy's in one, so he can't use that one."

Harry blinked some more and then two people came into focus before his sleep fogged eyes; Hermione and Ron, one looking exasperated and one looking mildly amused.

"I-" Harry began but stopped himself abruptly. Somewhere in his mind he registered that it would be a bad idea to tell Ron and Hermione that the reason he was asleep at the table was because he'd been so mortified by the realisation he'd gotten off with Draco Malfoy and thoroughly enjoyed it, not ten minutes after his girlfriend had left him, that he had tossed and turned in his bed for hours before crawling downstairs to make a hot chocolate.

"How did you get in?" Harry opted for asking instead, rubbing his neck as Ron made a beeline for the kettle and Hermione sat opposite him at the table, frowning.

"Ginny's key," Hermione said.

_Ginny._ Harry remembered all too clearly the events of the previous night involving Ginny, and then- _oh god- _his mind flicked back to the events involving Draco. Heat rose in Harry's still aching neck and he shifted uncomfortably on his chair.

"She came to see us this morning," Hermione said, eyeing Harry carefully. "What happened?"

"You know what's happened," Harry said miserably, folding his arms on the table and burying his face in them.

"She said you'd broken up," Hermione said cautiously. Ron seemed to be making a lot of noise for someone just making tea and Harry had a sneaking suspicion it was so he didn't have to listen to or join in with the upcoming conversation. Playing ignorant, indeed.

"I don't know, she just talked at me a lot," Harry said, wishing fervently that everyone would just go away and leave him to feel sorry for himself all day long.

"And I take it you didn't listen."

Harry was glad his face was hidden because to his shock he felt tears welling in his eyes again. This was so _unfair. _All he was trying to do was a simple good deed for a fellow human being and it had ended up at this?

"Harry! Are you going to-"

Hermione stopped mid-plea in what Harry assumed was exasperation. He didn't raise his head and realised that the noise Ron had been making had suddenly stopped- he felt a warm hand on his back in-between his shoulder blades and then heard a quiet voice that made his heart stop.

"Granger, lay off him. Weasley, stop staring at me."

Harry looked up so fast that his neck cracked. Behind him stood Draco, who was frowning pointedly at Hermione, who was staring back at him like she'd seen a ghost. Harry glanced at Ron who was stood, frozen, with his mouth hanging open and a mug of tea in each hand.

Harry cringed inwardly, feeling conflicted. He was amazed by and grateful for Draco standing in his defence, but at the same time the touch on his back was reminding him forcibly of the previous nights events and that was too hard to think about right now-

"Er, Malfoy?"

Ron's voice shook Harry out of his thoughts. The hand on his back tensed but Harry daren't turn around, instead he waiting for the storm to come, for Ron to forget he was part of the grown-up world now and call Draco every name under the sun-

"Do you want tea?"

Harry had to resist a wild urge to giggle; he suddenly found the situation completely hysterical and he knew that if he looked at Draco he would start to laugh uncontrollably and then everyone would know he had gone insane.

"No thanks," Draco said shortly. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't going to give Potter a harsh time about all this that's gone on. He's done a lot for me even though he didn't have to and I think he deserves credit for that."

Draco gave Harry's shoulders a quick squeeze and walked calmly away, pausing at the door with three identically shocked faces watching him.

"Oh. And Granger, I'm sorry for ever calling you a Mudblood, and Weasley, I'm sorry I ever insulted your mother."

With that he was gone, leaving Hermione and Ron to gape at Harry.

"What the hell just happened?" Hermione asked faintly. Ron looked as if he were never going to utter another word ever again.

Harry couldn't speak; he was staring at the door that Draco had gone through and suddenly feeling like crying again.

"Harry?" Hermione asked quietly as Ron placing a mug in front of him. "Are you okay?"

Harry shook his head slowly. "No."

Hermione and Ron gave each other a significant look.

"Harry…Ginny will come round," Hermione said gently. "You know what she's like, she's just headstrong."

Ron was apparently recovered enough to speak again, although still looked rather confused. "She's got a real chip on her shoulder concerning Malfoy as well," he said with a sigh. "She can't accept he might have changed."

Harry watched in amusement as Hermione snaked an arm around Ron's neck and pulled him towards her, kissing him on his temple and smiling. Ron gave Harry a bewildered look and Harry smiled weakly; Ron just couldn't understand how much he'd grown up even if everyone else had noticed.

"He has changed," Harry said softly, more to himself than the others.

"Harry-" Hermione began helplessly, eyeing him fondly.

"Yeah?" Harry asked, unperturbed.

"Nothing," Hermione said, suppressing a smile as Ron nudged her with his elbow.

Harry hated moment like these, when they did that stupid couple thing and thought they knew something that they of course wouldn't tell Harry about.

"No, it's not _nothing_ or you wouldn't have said anything," Harry said, nettled.

"We just can't believe you're getting on alright with Malfoy," Ron interjected quickly. "If anyone had told us in school that you two would be living together we'd have laughed in their faces."

"Or cursed them," Hermione added.

"I just can't believe you offered him tea," Harry said to Ron, with the ghost of a smile.

"Well it's all part of my plan," Ron said with a shrug. "If he's your friend then I can't be a bastard to him, so I'm going to beat him by being nicer to him than he is to me."

Harry and Hermione both laughed and Ron gave a superior nod and picked up his mug.

"Well, whatever works," Hermione conceded as Harry continued to chortle.

"Well, it wasn't as bad seeing him as I thought it would be," Ron admitted. "I thought I'd want to punch him in his face you know? I think its coz he looks different."

"It's the hair," Harry said and Ron nodded.

"Yeah. And he's less scowly."

"_Scowly_ is not a word, Ron," Hermione admonished, laughing.

"I think it should be. It suits him perfectly," Ron shrugged.

"Yeah, it's still strange to see him smile," Harry added.

"Does he smile at you a lot, then?" Hermione asked with a twinkle in her eye that Harry missed but Ron understood, grinning into his tea.

"A fair bit," Harry said with a shrug. He picked up his own mug, as Hermione and Ron carried on discussing the enigma that was Malfoy, choosing to not join in but instead stare moodily at his tea as if it were its fault that he were in this mess.

Ginny had left him. Molly Weasley was going to have a fit when she found out. God, Charlie was probably going to beat him into next week. Draco had kissed him. He was meant to be looking after him, not getting off with him - what if he were making Draco worse? What if something happened between Harry and Draco and Draco got upset by it- upset enough to hurt himself again? Hurting Draco was the last thing Harry wanted.

By the time Ron and Hermione had finished their tea and tried and failed to coax some more conversation out of Harry, he had made up his mind.

Ginny. He would have to make it up to her when this was all over. This situation, or whatever it was with Draco, was _wrong_ no matter what his heart said. Following his heart and not his head had gotten Harry in serious trouble on more than one occasion and he wasn't about to let that happen again. Draco would stay, and he would get better, but the madness couldn't continue. It was too volatile. Harry wasn't used to volatile, he was used to calm and steady, and that's how things had to stay. For Draco's sake. For everyone's sake.


	15. The tide

**Chapter 15: The tide**

Draco was in the kitchen when Harry came down early on Monday morning, tousle haired and bleary eyed, ready but unwilling to go to training. He had had a restless nights sleep, thinking about his decision but as morning came he still stood by it. It was the best thing for everyone.

Harry froze upon seeing the blond sat on the table with his feet on a chair, a piece of toast in his hand, rocking the chair onto two legs with his feet and looking unconcerned.

"Malfoy- I-" Harry began but Draco shook his head, setting the toast down and sliding off the table in a graceful movement that Harry wouldn't have been able to replicate if his life depended on it.

Draco stepped up so close to Harry that Harry nearly ran away. He'd made his mind up, but he didn't know how long his resolve would hold out if Draco kissed him again.

"I know," Draco said quietly. Harry had to shut his eyes; Draco was so close he could taste him. "I know," Draco repeated and gently took Harrys face in his hands, tipping his face down and kissing him on the forehead before moving back slightly and rubbing his nose gently against Harry's the way he had done the first time they'd kissed.

Harry tilted his face up sharply but he was too late, Draco had stepped back and as Harry opened his eyes he saw Draco give him a small smile before disappearing through the kitchen door.

Oh.

Draco understood. As always, Draco knew what Harry wanted and he was complying, his gesture this time telling Harry that he was backing off, that everything was still okay.

Draco understood perfectly and Harry found himself hating him for it.

* * *

Life continued. Harry didn't know how it would, but it did. It wasn't as smooth and as calm as his life had been with Ginny, but it was close. A whole month passed in relative stability, the few upsets caused by Draco and his demons. Fewer and smaller demons than before, but undoubtedly still there.

For the most part Draco was fine. He was there when Harry got in from training, eager to hear about Harry's day and talk about things he'd read or discovered whilst ferreting around in the library. They would watch TV together, play chess, and embark on ridiculous projects such as swapping all the furniture around in the house, just because they couldn't find a reason not to. They also found great amusement in baiting the portraits in the library with staged conversations about selling them at auction. Harry loved days like those and had to forcibly remind himself of what he'd decided, on more than one occasion, as he and Draco clutched at each other in fits of giggles.

Draco would keep his distance from Harry; not so much _avoiding_ him, but Harry would sense Draco had to remind himself more than once not to get too close. Sometimes Draco would forget and there would be moments that made one or both of them stammer and panic; a hand resting on someone's shoulder for too long, a hug that felt distinctly different to casual, realising they'd slipped from leaning against one another whilst they watched TV into something that could be labelled as spooning.

Sometimes Draco would be far from happy. He would still spontaneously cry for no apparent reason and inevitably end up sat sobbing with Harry's arms around him, letting Harry calm him down and soothe away his worries with hugs and gentle touches. Some days Draco wouldn't talk at all. He would watch Harry with wide eyes but wouldn't say a word. At moments he would get so angry with nothing it would take Harry hours to calm him down. He always managed to eventually, though.

There had been one day; a cloudy, storm-heavy day, where it was too hot to be comfortable and thunder pressed down on their senses, and Harry had come home from training to find Draco sat on the stairs waiting for him with four fingers on his right hand broken. Draco had let Harry heal them and let Harry take care of him that evening without argument, but he never told Harry why or how he'd done it.

Those moments tested Harry's resolve more than any; he knew that he could so easily wipe the tears away from Draco's cheeks and kiss him to let him know it was alright instead of stumbling over words, but he shouldn't. He knew that if he kissed him the sense of something being missing that weighed continually on his chest would probably disappear, but he shouldn't.

There was one difference Harry could easily see in Draco as time went on. Even though his mood swings were still frequent and violent and some days he would hurt Harry to the core with his blasé comments about death and wanting to die- but now, the difference was he would let Harry help with no argument. Sure, they would still argue, especially when Draco was in a foul mood, but telling Harry to fuck off and leave him alone was no longer on Draco's agenda.

And Harry noticed something else. Odd things, like a mug of tea appearing next to him at breakfast when he was running late, or a book with a corner neatly folded at an interesting article left on his bed, or his shoes which he always managed to lose inevitably ending back up by the front door so he didn't have to curse and spend twenty minutes looking for them every morning. Those things always made Harry feel strange.

Underneath everything, the bottom line was that Draco was getting better, and Harry knew it was time for him to take another step. It was this reasoning that caused Harry to make the decision to drag Draco unceremoniously out of bed by his ankles at ten thirty AM on a Saturday morning and announce that they were going out.

"Potter, get the fuck off- what?"

Draco flailed around on the floor for a moment, struggling with the blankets he was tangled up in at the foot of the bed before finally emerging and glaring daggers at Harry.

"We're going out," Harry said simply. "Me you, Diagon Alley, shopping, lunch."

"No we are fucking not," Draco's face had gone pale and his eyes wide, looking at Harry as if he had gone insane.

"Yes we are," Harry said firmly. He had learnt that with Draco that pleaded and coaxing only worked so far; often it was better just to tell him and not give him the leverage to argue. He suspected that that was what Draco wanted sometimes as well: someone to take control of the situation for him even if he _did _complain about it.

"No, are you mad? I'll be cursed-"

"You'll be with me," Harry said dismissively.

Draco rolled his eyes and sat up, wrapping his blankets around his shoulders. "And like that won't garner all sorts of unwanted attention."

"I don't care," Harry said patiently. "They can write what they want about me, I'm not bothered. You haven't been outside in months and I know you like shopping. So get showered, and let's get going."

"This is a bad idea," Draco said, eying Harry suspiciously and unconsciously flexing the fingers of his right hand. He did that a lot since they'd been broken but insisted that they didn't hurt. Harry wasn't sure if he believed him or not.

"A lot of things I do are considered bad ideas," Harry said with a small smile.

"People will shout at me," Draco tried.

"So what if they do?" Harry countered.

"You're infuriating," Draco said, flinging himself backwards with a scowl and pulling the blankets back over his head. Harry gave a grin, knowing he'd won.

"There's some new clothes for you in the wardrobe. Hurry up."

* * *

"Potter, I don't like this. I don't like this one bit."

Draco was panicking. He had made it all the way to the front door of the Leaky Cauldron with next to no fuss but was now wavering, looking up at the sign with nothing but fear etched into his face.

Harry had expected this a lot earlier, if he were honest. Draco had showered, got dressed in a pair of black jeans and a blue button down shirt that Harry had found out for him (completed with a loosely knotted black tie he'd unashamedly stolen from Harry's wardrobe) and eaten breakfast with no argument whatsoever.

They had left the house with only a pause on the doorstep and a complaint about how bright the fucking sun was, and walked side by side the short route through Muggle London, but now it seemed they had hit the wall.

"It'll be fine," Harry tried to reassure Draco as they stood on the doorstep of the Leaky Cauldron.

"No, it won't. People will recognise me."

"Even if they do, we'll deal with it as it happens yeah?" Harry said. "I won't leave your side, I swear."

Draco looked at him through narrowed eyes and then Harry reached out and squeezed his fingers, just briefly. Draco looked surprised, looking down at the hand, and then took a deep breath and nodded.

They ducked into the Leaky Cauldron and Harry put a hand on Draco's back, guiding him through towards the exit into Diagon Alley. They made it halfway through before anything happened; there was a _crash,_ and Harry looked round to see Tom the barkeeper wincing, a broken glass on the floor their side of the counter.

"Sorry Mister Harry, wasn't expecting to see you out and about today," he said hastily, his eyes flicking from Harry to Draco who was currently staring at the floor and cursing under his breath.

"Yeah, just having a day out," Harry said, smiling at Tom and giving Draco a shove in the direction they were meant to be going in. Draco turned to give him a scowl before walking off towards the entrance to the Alley.

Harry gave Tom a nod and went to follow, but Tom nimbly sidestepped the bar and grabbed Harry's sleeve. "Is that…really?" he whispered urgently.

"Yes it is. And he's with me," Harry said firmly. "Got to go, Tom."

He followed Draco swiftly outside and found him leaning against the brick wall, looking a little nervous but determined. "You better make this worth my while," he said, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt sleeves.

Harry grinned at him. "You know I reckon I can do that."

* * *

"Potter- you are amazing."

"I know."

"Oh god, that's good."

"Really? That good?"

"I'm not even kidding, I missed this so bad- hey, get off that."

"Come on, don't be selfish!"

"It's mine!"

Harry leant forwards and folded his arms atop the bench, highly amused as he watched Draco. He was sitting next to Harry and demolishing a triple-chocolate-hazelnut-ice-cream sundae, complete with a fluttering chocolate wafer fan, with an enthusiasm that bordered on unhealthy.

"How you don't get fat is beyond me," Harry mused.

"The Universe would be upset if I got fat," Draco said, seriously. "I'm far too good looking to get fat."

"Nice to see your self-esteem is coming back," Harry chuckled, reaching out towards the ice cream and being forcibly swatted with Draco's spoon.

"My magic is coming back too," Draco said casually.

"How do you know that?" Harry asked, licking the back of his hand where Draco had left a smudge of chocolate sauce from his spoon based assault.

"I borrowed your wand when you were in the shower," Draco said promptly, still not looking up from his ice-cream.

"You did what?" Harry asked, eyebrows raised.

"Only to try a lumos. It worked way better than when I last tried, when you were there. I could levitate one of those Snitches on your windowsill as well, about a foot up. Can't do anything much stronger though," Draco looked up at Harry defensively. "What? I put your wand back."

"That's not the point," Harry said, but he was laughing.

"Yes it is," Draco said dismissively. "Now do you want some of this or not?"

Harry grinned, picking up his own spoon and scooting closer to Draco in order to dig into the ice cream that sat on the table in front of the two of them.

This had been a great idea, Harry reflected. Draco had been understandably nervous as they walked down Diagon Alley, and a few disbelieving glances had been thrown their way, but nothing worse. Harry had mused he should bring questionable company out more often if it stopped strange people coming over to talk to him unannounced and uninvited.

As calm as Harry was today, Draco was still unsettled and jumpy. However, the moment they sat down in the sun on a picnic bench outside Florean Fortesque's refurbished and reopened ice-cream parlour he had settled down, admittedly aided considerably by the distraction of a huge portion of ice cream.

"You glad we came out?" Harry asked Draco, nudging him gently with his elbow.

"So far," Draco said cautiously. "People have been looking at me though."

"That's because you disappeared for two years," Harry said gently. "People were fascinated by you, they got caught up in following your trial and then I got involved which just made everyone want to know more, and then you just weren't here anymore-"

"Well, that's what I aimed for," Draco said moodily.

Harry frowned and reached out, wrapping an arm around Draco's shoulders and giving him a shake. "Hey," he said sternly. "Come on. You were doing great until now."

"Let's go home," Draco said quietly, unconsciously leaning into the embrace.

"We'll finish this first," Harry compromised. Draco didn't respond as Harry gave his shoulders another squeeze, nudging Draco's knee with his own.

"Like you're going to leave ice cream uneaten," Harry said mischievously and was rewarded with a reluctant smile and a small laugh from Draco.

"You're right," Draco smiled, taking another spoon of ice cream and slipping it into his mouth in a way Harry didn't have to blink twice at, not at all. God, Harry may have made the resolution to stay away from Draco but it didn't stop his subconscious thinking very inappropriate thoughts about him when he were sleeping, or dozing, or daydreaming, or when Draco were doing obscene things to spoons.

"If I'd have known all I had to do was feed you ice-cream-"

"Yeah, yeah, shut up Potter," Draco grumbled good-naturedly.

"Never," Harry teased.

"Thank you for this, anyway," Draco said, taking another spoon of ice cream.

"You're welcome," Harry said and impulsively pulled Draco towards him with the arm that was round Draco's shoulders, gently nudging Draco's temple with his forehead, not missing the small smile Draco gave around the spoon-

"Harry?"

A shocked sounding voice made both Harry and Draco look up, Draco still with the spoon in his mouth. There stood Neville, looking like he'd been punched in the face or been hit with a full body bind - either could have been plausible - and staring at Harry and Draco in disbelief.

Harry inwardly cursed as he realised that he still had his arm around Draco and was blatantly hugging him, something Neville had clearly noticed. He let go of Draco, doing his best not to make the motion obvious or feel guilty and failing on both counts.

"What on Earth is going on?" Neville said in disbelief.

"Neville, calm down, please," Harry pleaded, noticing a group of witches two benches down eyeing them with interest, as well as the shopkeeper from the Magical Menagerie staring unashamedly at him from the doorway across the cobbled street.

Neville hesitated and then slid onto the bench across from them, now eyeing Draco warily.

Draco pulled the spoon out of his mouth. "I'm not going to bite."

Neville made a disbelieving noise in the back of his throat and then turned to Harry. "Harry, what are you doing? After everything's that's gone on I find you sat around with _him, _just eating ice-cream like nothing's happened?"

"It's not like that," Harry said, wishing Draco wasn't looking at him in that way right now. "This is the first time we've been out."

"And you look like you're _thoroughly_ enjoying it," Neville remarked. "So I guess there's more than one reason you broke up with Ginny?"

"What? She broke up with me, not- _what?_" Harry was spluttering. In his mind he made a slightly hysterical mental note to laugh at Draco's reaction to that later on. His jaw had dropped and he was staring at Neville in a similar fashion to how Ron had stared at Draco when he had appeared in the kitchen to defend Harry that day weeks ago.

"There's been a lot of talk about you two, Ginny's told me everything. Apparently you've been _taking care_ of him in more ways than one," Neville blurted out, and then clapped a hand over his mouth, looking shocked at himself.

"_Neville!_"

Draco quickly stole a hand under the bench and grabbed Harry's. "Let's go," he whispered a little worriedly.

Harry decided Draco was right. There were times to fight, and there were times to abandon your ice-cream and head for home before a situation got any worse than it already had.

"Neville I'll talk to you later," Harry said, climbing off the bench after Draco and walking around to Neville.

"Harry, I'm sorry-" Neville began, clearly regretting what he'd said.

Before Harry could say anything to comfort Neville who was beginning to look distraught, he heard a panicked voice behind him that belonged to Draco.

"Potter!"

Harry whipped around and saw with a shock the keeper from the Magical Menagerie had crossed the street and was pointing his finger at Draco, who had backed up as far as he could go against the stone wall of Florean's, his eyes fixed on the wand that was held loosely in the keepers other hand.

"What's he doing here?" the man asked brusquely.

"He's with me," Harry said, stepping forwards. "He's not causing trouble, leave him alone."

The man's eyes flicked up to Harry's scar and then back to his face.

"He's a Death eater," he hissed, as if Draco couldn't hear him.

"He's not. He did his time," Harry said, stepping between the man and Draco and staring at the man defiantly.

The man stared back for a long moment and then shrugged, sloping back off towards his shop without a backwards glance.

"Fuck," Harry swore and turned to Draco who was looking a little shaken but otherwise fine.

"I'm okay. Just _please_, let's go somewhere else," Draco insisted, his voice not quite steady.

Harry nodded and turned to Neville, who was looking conflicted. "Neville…" he began, but found he was tired of apologising and explaining and justifying. "See you later."

* * *

Draco was quiet all the way home and Harry didn't blame him. It was a lot to take in; being outside for the first time in months, back in the wizarding world, seeing faces from school and being accosted by a man accusing him of being a Death Eater…yeah, a busy day to say the least.

Draco bolted up to his room the moment the door was open and Harry sighed as he double locked the front door. What he really wanted was Draco about to just sit with him and be there after the things Neville said about Ginny, but he wasn't going to push him. There was no doubt who this experience had been harder on.

Harry tried to put it out of his mind how it must have looked to Neville when he encountered them in Diagon Alley. Fuck. Harry had no idea how long Neville had been watching them, but their behaviour had been…well, not completely appropriate if he were honest. It never was with Draco. They stood too close, they leant against each other when they were sitting, touched more frequently than Harry did with any of his other friends, but it didn't _mean _anything. Right?

Nine PM came and went and Harry finally gave in to the maddening urges to go and check if Draco was okay. He made it out the front room and turned to go up the stairs, jumping a mile as he came nose to nose with Draco who had just come down.

"Shit! I was just coming to check you were alright," Draco said hastily.

"What?" Harry asked, confused. "I was coming to check on _you_, why would you need to check on me?"

"The things Longbottom said," Draco said carefully. "I could tell they upset you."

Draco was far too close to him. Too close, Harry could see the flecks of colour in those grey eyes that were looking at him in that way again.

"Malfoy," Harry said helplessly. He'd been fighting this for almost a month, but he had the feeling that fighting Draco was going to be like fighting the tide. He had swept in over Harry leaving nothing unchanged, nothing unmoved, even though on the surface it would appear nothing was any different.

Draco was still looking at him and suddenly Harry was hit with a memory; Draco, waiting in the kitchen with a grin on his face and a towel in his hand when Harry returned after a rained off practice, laughing at Harry's put-out expression and draping the towel over Harry's head, calling him an idiot and rubbing his hair dry-

Comprehension hit Harry so fast that his knees nearly buckled; Draco _was_ the tide. If Harry let him, he would be there every day for him and give him the routine and support he craved and was seeking in his relationship with Ginny, but he would also be something much more. Yes he would be unpredictable at times, but now that didn't seem a bad thing. It was like skydiving- a stupid risk, but one that would make your finally feel alive, like you were living, not just existing.

And, oh shit- Harry realised as Draco bit his lower lip uncertainly, clearly not wanting to move, that Draco had been waiting for him. All this time. Harry had been trying to do what was best by Draco and he'd not completely understood the way Draco _looked _at him. He understood now. Draco wanted him, and he'd been waiting all this time whilst Harry tried to do the best thing for everyone and had ran circles in his own head...

...Draco was still looking at him.

Looking at _him. _

There was only one thing left to do, and Harry wasn't even going to try and stop himself this time. He stepped forwards and pressed his body flush against Draco's and with trembling lips, he gently kissed him.


	16. Going, going, gone

Draco shut his eyes as he felt Harry's trembling lips gently brush against his own, and nearly fainted in relief. He gently reached up to hold Harry's face in his hands, desperately willing Harry not to run away again.

He gently moved his own lips against Harry's, slowly kissing Harry's lower lip and felt his whole body shiver. Harry responded, his tongue coming to tentatively meet Draco's and Draco's breath hitched in the back of his throat at the same moment Harry's arms wrapped tightly around his chest and hands slid lightly up his back.

It hadn't been easy. Draco had done what he never thought he'd be able to do in his life, and he'd waited. Waited for Harry to come to him, trusted in his own convictions that Harry would come back when he was ready. It had been terrifying, letting go of all his self doubt and self loathing to trust that Harry would return but here was the proof that it was all worth it, god he was so worth it.

Draco nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand stole its way under his shirt, sliding across the skin of his back, but barely had time to register that delicious sensation before Harry was pulling away.

"Draco," he began.

"No," Draco said hurriedly. "Don't talk. You're not good with words."

"Says you," Harry said quietly, but didn't move to kiss Draco again. Although he didn't remove his hands from Draco's skin either, which Draco took as being a good sign.

"Potter," Draco whispered when Harry didn't say anything more. "Just stop thinking for five minutes and do what _you_ want."

Harry looked at him in amazement then, and Draco felt a surge of fierce joy and pride ripple through him as _knew_ he was right. The amazement on Harry's face faded and Draco shivered as Harry scrutinised him intently, his eyes flickering over Draco's face as if he were searching for something.

The hands slipped out of Draco's shirt and Draco was ready to cry, or push Potter down the damn stairs, but before he could attempt to murder the Boy-Who-Lived Harry had taken his hand and was leading him into the sitting room.

_Well, I could definitely live with this…_ Draco thought dazedly as Harry sat down on the sofa and held out both hands to Draco with a questioning, almost pleading expression on his face. Draco took Harry's hands and allowed him to pull him forwards onto his knee, just like before.

A hand crept back under Draco's shirt as Draco leant down and stole Harry's lips in another kiss; aiming to be gentle but Harry wasn't having any of it. His free hand stole up and threaded into the hair on the back of Draco's head, holding him firmly in place as he deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping immediately into Draco's mouth and making them both let out stifled moans.

Draco could only remember thinking one thing in the face of Harry's kisses that were slowly turning him into a quivering wreck. _Please let this last…_

* * *

Draco blearily tried to open his eyes, wincing in the bright sunlight that was pouring through the open window of the sitting room and choosing instead to keep them closed. A smile slowly curved his lips as he remembered; he and Harry had fallen asleep on the sofa, yet again after spending all night lying side by side, kissing leisurely, slowly, softly in the darkness.

It had been glorious. Nothing more than kisses and hands sliding slowly over arms and chests, fingers trailing touches across faces and through hair, not stopping until exhaustion claimed them and they had fallen asleep. Draco's lips were still aching this morning but he didn't mind, not one bit…

He rolled back, expecting to feel a warm body behind him and jumped inwardly when nothing stopped him and he ended up flat on his back on the sofa, bewildered and alone.

"Potter?" he called, looking around the room. No answer.

Oh, _fuck_. Not again…

* * *

Harry was still smiling as he yawned and scratched the back of his head and tried to pour tea one handed. Last night had been…well, he could safely say he considered an evening snogging the daylights out of Draco an evening well spent. He knew that they could have gone further, that if given the go ahead Draco would have forcibly torn Harry's clothing from his body, but he hadn't wanted to; the slow burning kisses had been perfect, making Harry's entire body tingle and telling Draco everything he couldn't manage to with words. In the bright light of day the morning after, Harry finally felt like he'd made a good decision in his life and now all that he had to do was work out his next move.

"I'm going now."

A subdued voice made Harry turn around sharply, almost loosing his balance. He righted his feet and looked up to see Draco there, stood by the door with the box with the _4325MD_ stamp on its side in his arms, looking thoroughly dejected.

"Hang on, what?" Harry asked, confused.

"I'm going. I can't take any more of this."

Harry gaped at him. "What? No! You can't go," he stammered. "Look, I won't kiss you again if that's the problem, I swear-"

"What?" Now Draco was looking as confused as Harry felt. The box slipped in his arms a little.

"I'm sorry about last night-" Harry began helplessly.

"You're always sorry about it," Draco said, a little bitterly. "When things happen between us. I thought, I got up this morning and you were gone, you're _always_ gone when I get up and you change your mind."

Harry stared at him, unable to form words.

"God, I knew it," Draco said, shaking his head violently and his tone suddenly turning accusatory. "You- it's one of those Healer, patient things for you, isn't it?"

"No!" Harry said, his mouth finally working. "Of course not-"

"It is," Draco retorted, suddenly angry. "You only want me because I'm all _sick, _and I need looking after, and it's so unfair_-_"

Harry made his feet move and walked over to Draco, shaking his head in a dumbstruck fashion and making to take the box out of Draco's arms.

"Draco, put the box down."

"No," Draco said stubbornly, turning the box away from Harry.

Harry gave the box a sharp yank but Draco wouldn't let go; instead he stepped back, trying to wrestle himself and his box out of Harry's grip. "Don't start this again," Harry warned.

"Or what?"

"Come on, I wasn't running away, I was making tea for us both-" Harry said, beginning to despair.

"Yeah right, you were just avoiding me, as usual," Draco was almost shouting now and Harry could tell he was one misplaced comment away from throwing a full blown rage.

"Draco, please, just put the damn box down and tell me why you're getting so angry-"

"Because I'm in love with you, you fucking prat, and you don't even have the common decency to notice!"

Harry could only hear a distant buzzing in his ears. In front of him stood Draco, whose chest was heaving with his breath, his jaw clenched tightly and held up almost defiantly, his eyes fierce.

Draco was in love with him? Images flashed before Harry's eyes; Draco crying in the room with the blue door, the look of concentration on his face as he moved a chess piece, the laughter as Draco towelled his hair dry, Draco nose to nose with him on the sofa as they laughed about something, Draco trying and failing to wipe ketchup off of his chin as Harry sniggered at him-

Harry let go of the box. Draco's eyes widened in something that could possibly have been fear but Harry merely seized Draco by his shirt collar, pulling him in close and planting a kiss squarely on Draco's mouth.

The surprised noise Draco made was somewhat muffled by Harry's mouth and Harry seized his opportunity to pull the box out of Draco's arms and blindly toss it to his right onto the kitchen table, pressing his body flush against Draco's the moment the opportunity presented itself.

Draco responded with a growl and kissing Harry back as hard as he could, his hands threading into Harry's hair and gripping so tightly it nearly hurt. Harry wasn't about to be outdone; the thrill that ran through him at Draco's rough handling driving him to push Draco back with enough force for Draco to stumble backwards, his legs hitting the kitchen table- and Harry was pushing him up onto the table and they were still kissing fiercely, long legs were wrapping around Harry's waist and he gasped into Draco's mouth-

"WHAT THE FUCK?"

Harry wrenched his mouth away from Draco's and turned on the spot, still stood between Draco's thighs.

In the doorway stood Ginny, angrier than Harry had ever seen her in his life, with her door key in one hand and her wand in the other.

"Care to explain?" she asked, her voice trembling with fury.

"Ginny-" Harry began awkwardly. Draco made to sit up but Ginny immediately pointed her wand straight between his eyes so he stayed where he was, half sprawled across the kitchen table and propped up uncomfortably on his elbows, still breathing heavily.

"Put it down," Harry said quietly to Ginny, gesturing to her wand as he turned and stepped away from Draco.

"Put it down?" Ginny repeated, a little hysterically. "I came to talk to my boyfriend and find him snogging _Draco Malfoy_, and you want me to put my wand down?"

"Gin, please," Harry pleaded, mentally cursing himself for leaving his own wand on the other end of the kitchen table. But then again, he had long given up expecting to be attacked in his own home.

"Don't you-" Ginny shrieked, a spark jumping from the end of her wand. "What are you _doing?_"

"I- hang on, this isn't- we broke up, you dumped me," Harry said, suddenly opting for defensive.

"I didn't mean it, I just wanted you to get rid of him-" Ginny spat, glaring at Draco who was staring back at her, his face expressionless.

"You knew I couldn't do that- why do you have such a problem with Malfoy?" Harry asked angrily. "Ron and Hermione have managed to forgive him-"

"His Dad nearly got me killed!" Ginny shouted. "And then you- you spend the whole of sixth year _obsessing_ over him when I was right in front of you, trying so hard just to be _noticed_, and then when the war was finally over and we could spend some proper time together, you drop everything and abandon me to go and drag his arse out of Azkaban!"

"That's what this is about?" Harry asked, amazed. "You really think that?"

"You put a Death Eater higher on your priority list than me," Ginny said and Harry felt a pang go through him.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, stepping towards her. "I truly am, I never meant to hurt you, I still care about you-"

Ginny watched him come closer, finally shifting her wand away from Draco and holding it by her side, still in a tight grip. "Not as much as you care about him, obviously," she said bitterly.

"It's not like that-"

"Well it seems that way!"

"Look, I never meant for this to happen," Harry said, cautiously stepping closer again. Ginny watched him, her fingers flexing around her wand slightly and her hands shaking.

"So why did it happen?" she asked suddenly. "Since when have you been _gay_, Harry?"

"What, I'm not-" Harry swallowed, wishing he could see Draco; he had no idea how the blonde was reacting behind him.

"So you're not gay...you just snog blokes now," Ginny said, her voice shaking and the hardness returning to her eyes.

"No, well…Look, Ginny, you said it was over," Harry said, feeling wrong-footed and more than a little cornered.

"I only said that so you'd get rid of that twat!" Ginny shouted, pushing Harry's chest so he stumbled back a little. "I didn't expect you to jump into bed with him, never mind what Neville said about you two being all cozy out in Diagon Alley- have you any idea how humiliating that was to hear about?"

"This hasn't exactly been easy on me-" Harry began angrily.

"Oh no, it's been so hard for you, skiving off work to spend all day in bed with _Malfoy_, you're nothing but a fucking-"

There was a flash of light and Harry cried out, throwing his hands up over his face. Nothing else happened so he lowered them cautiously, only to see Ginny standing gaping at something behind his shoulder.

Harry whipped around to see Draco stood feet apart and shoulders squared, pointing Harry's wand directly at Ginny, with her wand and house key now held loosely in his free hand.

"Get out," Draco said calmly.

Harry's heart was beating so heart he swore it was going to break his ribs; he waited for the explosion from Ginny but none came, he looked at her and saw her expression change from shocked to furious. She opened her mouth but nothing came out- Draco had managed to use Harry's wand to silence her as well as taking her wand and key.

"Harry has done nothing but good by me when he didn't need to or have to," Draco said harshly. "He saved my life _again_ and all you can say is that you're angry that you weren't getting all his attention?"

Ginny's mouth was working furiously and Harry was sure he lip-read some curses and swear words but she still made no sound.

"You are as much of an ungrateful brat as I was in school," Draco scorned. "Get out, and if you ever threaten Harry, or say anything bad to him again, I'm going to do a lot more than silence you. I will give this back-" he waved her wand- "to Weasley and Granger. Pick it up from them later."

He paused, folding his arms and leaning against the table. "Go on then. Fuck off."

Ginny ran.


	17. In deep

Harry dimly heard the front door slam as he stood gaping at Draco who put the wands and keys on the table with a small smile.

"Magic," Harry said hoarsely. "Your magic-"

"Yeah I know," Draco said, his brow furrowed. "I wasn't sure if it'd work, especially with your wand."

"You just…" Harry started to laugh. "She is going to be _pissed._"

Draco gave a glare in the direction of the door that Ginny had fled through. "I don't care. I've decided, I'm through hurting myself- I'm going to hurt _her_ instead."

Harry looked at him, still slightly in shock at what had happened and whirling with emotion; anger at Ginny and worry of the repercussions of the mornings events were both there, but stronger than all that was pride at how Draco had stood up to her, joy that Draco's magic was returning more and more, and elation that all these things Draco had done, he had done for Harry.

There were a million things Harry wanted to say, but Draco was right. As bad as he was with words, Draco was equally good at hearing what he wanted into anything that was said, so Harry opted for something else. He walked over to Draco and gently rested his hands on his waist, shutting his eyes and rubbing his nose lightly against Draco's cheek.

Tentative hands came to run over Harry's shoulders and Draco shivered as Harry pressed a kiss just behind his ear.

"Did you mean it?" Harry asked quietly into Draco's ear.

"Mean what?" Draco asked in a tone of voice that left Harry under no illusion that he knew exactly what he was talking about.

"You said you loved me," Harry whispered.

"Yes." Draco said simply.

Harry knew then that he was exactly in the right place in the world, stood wrapped up around Draco; the man who he had saved, the man who challenged him, made him think, made him feel, made him want to wake up and do something new every day.

Sure, Draco still drove him insane, and Draco probably felt the same way about Harry but it didn't matter. And there was undoubtedly doing to be less than pleasant consequences at the revelation that The Chosen One had suddenly left his long term girlfriend and taken up with another man, and an ex Death Eater to boot. Harry found he didn't care. He'd take the good and the bad together over the previous state of indifference any day.

He kissed Draco's neck again and delight sparked through him as he felt Draco's breath catch in his chest and Draco squirmed slightly against him. He continued, this time using his tongue and his lips to trail a path of hot kisses down Draco's neck to his shoulder.

Draco took Harry's head in his hands and kissed him properly, both of them making noises of contentment as their tongues met and they pressed together in mutual need and desire, chest to chest, hip to hip.

It seemed at Draco's new found courage had not yet dissipated; long fingers threaded through Harry's and Draco gently pulled on his hand, ghosting one last kiss on Harry's lips and looking at him with a question in his eyes.

Harry picked up his wand and then kissed Draco soundly in answer, pulling back only when he needed to breathe. Draco nodded unevenly and hurriedly backed out of the kitchen, pulling Harry along with him with an increasing sense of urgency.

They half ran, half stumbled up the stairs with still joined hands, Draco pausing on the landing outside Harry's room and barely having time to give Harry another questioning look before Harry was pushing him inside and shutting the door behind him with his foot.

They stepped up to each other again, letting their eyes drift shut as Draco gently rubbed his cheek against Harry's, unconsciously mimicking Harry's earlier actions. Harry could taste Draco once more and a rush went through him at the realisation that now he was free to taste and to touch as much as he wanted with nothing to stop him. It was both terrifying and exhilarating and the feeling only intensified as Draco caught Harry's mouth in another demanding kiss.

Harry didn't wait; he walked Draco backwards until they both toppled back onto the bed side by side and Draco was tugging at his T-shirt, pulling it up over Harry's head and throwing it away mindlessly. Draco's shirt was soon given the same treatment and Harry let himself look unashamedly at the half naked body next to him, tinted with the flush of arousal. Harry reached out and ran his hand along Draco's torso, wondering at the smoothness of it.

Draco's body moved towards Harry's touch, biting his bottom lip with his teeth and Harry slowly moved his hand lower, running it across Draco's hip and down across his thigh which shook slightly under his palm.

Emboldened by Draco's reaction, Harry ran his hand slowly back up the inside of Draco's thigh and up in between his legs. Draco's body twitched convulsively under him and Draco had to stifle a moan, grabbing Harry's face and kissing him hard.

Harry kissed him back frantically, his whole body trembling as Draco's hands left his face and reached for the lightweight slacks he had been wearing, yanking them down and off, leaving Harry completely naked.

Harry knew he should have felt at least _some_ negative emotions as Draco tugged his own sleep trousers off, kicking them away and leaving his body equally as bare but he didn't. Draco pressed his body into Harry's and Harry gasped; Draco's skin was so hot, and it was pressed against Harry from chest to thigh leaving Harry aching with arousal and desperate for more.

"Draco," he whispered against his lips.

"Mmm?" Draco didn't relent on kissing Harry, his tongue tracing the outline of Harry's lip and making Harry completely lose his train of thought.

"God- I want…I want- you," Harry managed to say past Draco's kisses, which were admittedly a more than welcome distraction.

"You sure?" Draco asked.

Harry rolled them both over in answer, earning a gasp from Draco as Harry's erection pressed into his and Harry leant down to kiss his neck lightly.

"Yes, but I don't know-" Harry confessed, trailing off, choosing instead to keep kissing as much skin as he could reach along Draco's neck.

"Lucky for you that I do, then," Draco murmured, rolling them back over so Harry was on his back, and pressing kisses along Harry's collarbone, before wriggling lower and kissing along Harry's stomach.

Harry had to grip Draco's shoulder tightly and bite his lip to stop himself crying out loud- Draco's mouth was moving lower and lower and Harry was trembling so badly-

A cry escaped him as Draco's mouth engulfed him, his hips arching off the bed and his hands gripping even harder onto Draco. He felt the flat of Draco's tongue sliding up and down him and had to fight to keep himself under control- it had been months without any sexual contact for him and this was indescribable- beyond anything he'd ever felt.

Draco's hands were sliding up his thighs as Harry's hips twitched convulsively, his body aching with the effort of holding back from thrusting wildly into the glorious mouth that continued to do wicked things to him, sucking and licking expertly and confidently. All too soon nimble fingers were sliding higher, higher, brushing against him and Harry lost it, he jerked his hips up and felt Draco moan around him and that was all it took- he cried out and his body arched as he came harder than he ever had in his life, his vision going white and his whole body arching off of the bed.

He collapsed back down, panting and shaking. Dimly through his orgasm-fogged brain he felt kisses being pressed up his body once more and Draco's face was nuzzling into the side of his neck, his breath hot and heavy against his skin.

"Wow," Harry rasped when he could manage words, pulling Draco's face up to kiss him and tasting both Draco and himself on his lips, something he found strangely exciting.

"What about you, I want to- for you-" Harry said, running a hand down Draco's back and lightly across his arse. "What do you want?" he murmured into Draco's ear, making the blonde shudder.

"You know full well what I'd want to do," Draco said carefully. "But that's not-"

"Do it."

Draco lifted his head up sharply, looking Harry in the eye with his expression torn between shocked and incredulous and still laced with desire.

"What, no-" Draco began.

"Draco, I want you to," Harry said to him gently. "You want to, I know-"

"But you've never-" Draco tried to argue.

"I'm going to have a first time at some point, why not now?" Harry said and Draco's eyebrows flew up under his fringe and he looked at Harry intently.

Harry leant up and kissed him. Draco held tense for a moment and then the fight went out of him- he kissed Harry back soundly, letting his body settle back down onto Harry's.

"It'll hurt," he warned quietly in between kisses.

"Don't care," Harry whispered back, wrapping his legs around Draco's and sliding his body against his, feeling arousal stirring inside him once more.

Harry truly didn't care. He couldn't explain why he wanted this so badly, but he just did. He somehow felt that with giving himself over to Draco completely, Draco would never doubt him again.

_Harry_ would never doubt again, he decided as he found himself on his back with Draco kneeling over his thighs, pressing gentle kisses onto his chest as a hand slipped between his legs, gently pressing against him, terrifying and thrilling at the same time. This was where he wanted to be.

He barely noticed Draco's free hand stealing Harry's wand from the bedside table but he definitely noticed when Draco whispered something and then a slick finger was slowly sliding inside him, working slowly back and forth, feeling uncomfortable and so, so strange, but Draco was gentle and soothed Harry with warm kisses and gentle caresses with his free hand.

Shutting his eyes, Harry forced himself to lie back and relax as Draco gently entered another finger and continued his ministrations, taking the time to make sure Harry was completely ready. The burning pain was subsiding and as Draco's fingers slid that bit deeper a jolt of something amazing ran through Harry and he gasped; he was lost in sensation, his body shaking as Draco clambered back up his body and kissed him, holding his lips against Harry's as he slowly thrust inside of him.

Harry tensed up instinctively against the pain and his breath caught in his chest and this was too much, he couldn't take it- but Draco was kissing him gently, whispering comforting words against his lips and keeping perfectly still until the pain ebbed away and Harry gave a shaky nod, kissing Draco back as Draco pushed in deeper and oh god, it was so strange, it was-

Draco moved his hips slowly and Harry cried out as another exquisite jolt of pleasure sent lightning running through his body but it didn't completely dull the pain and he had to grab Draco's hips and still him until it dissipated once more; his breathing was laboured as he gave another nod, more confident this time and then Draco was moving over him and it didn't hurt anymore and Harry was lost, his body alight and finally feeling alive.

He was soon moving with him, instinctively spreading his legs wider, revelling in the moans that fell from Draco's lips, kissing him with all his energy and feeling a fierce rush of love towards the man whose life he had saved, the man who had saved him too-

"Harry-"

A choked word fell from Draco's lips and Harry held him tightly, as Draco cried out and thrust faster, Harry urging him on with rocks of his own hips and then Draco's whole body tensed and he buried his face in Harry's shoulder as his climax rushed through him, his body shuddering uncontrollably before he collapsed down onto Harry, who found his weight oddly comforting.

They laid there together for a long time, limbs tangled together and breathing heavy, the sweat cooling on their bodies and both knowing that they'd managed to tell each other just how far in love with each other they had ended up, without uttering a word.

* * *

Harry awoke groggily, momentarily disorientated by finding his bed full of a very naked Draco, who seemed to have taken it upon himself to monopolise all of the mattress space as well as all of the blankets in his sleep.

He smiled, reaching out and gently running his fingers down Draco's nose, grinning as Draco twitched in his sleep, an irritated frown crossing his forehead.

Harry looked at the clock and saw it was six O' clock in the evening- he and Draco had managed to sleep the day away after the events of earlier-

A pleasant shiver went through Harry as he remembered what had happened; his body still felt strange and a little sore but he didn't regret it, not one bit. He kissed Draco briefly on his temple and then slid out of bed, pulling his slacks and T-shirt back on, planning on going to make something to eat for them both when Draco decided to wake up-

He got as far as the door and his brain suddenly backtracked, remembering the _other_ significant events of the day, which he had completely forgotten about in the wake of having amazing sex with Draco.

Ginny. She'd seen him and Draco snogging in the kitchen, it was only a matter of time before she told everyone and Harry doubted that Ron would be super happy about _that_, even if he had accepted Malfoy.

Harry ran into the sitting room and grabbed the pot of Floo powder off of the mantelpiece, haphazardly throwing a handful into the grate and tripping over his own feet as he shouted Ron and Hermione's address and disappeared in a whirl of green flames and ash.

* * *

Harry fell out of the fireplace in Ron and Hermione's sitting room, swearing loudly as his knees hit the floor, his Quidditch honed reflexes the only thing stopping him from hitting his face on the carpet too.

"Harry! What the hell?"

He stood up hurriedly, seeing Ron stood in the doorway that led to the kitchen, looking bewildered. "Sorry- emergency," he panted, scrambling to his feet and rubbing his knees.

"What? Everything OK?" Ron asked, concerned, beckoning for Harry to come through into the kitchen. Ron's completely nonplussed expression sent relief through Harry; Ginny obviously hadn't been here to spill the news yet.

"Yeah, well no- stuff's happened and I needed to tell you before anyone else did-" Harry rambled, walking into the kitchen and sitting down blindly on a chair next to Hermione who was there already, looking intently at a sheet of parchment that was covered in numbers.

"Hi Harry-" she began brightly, looking up and then narrowing her eyes. "Harry, are you in your pyjamas?" she asked suspiciously.

"Erm, yeah," Harry said, looking down at himself then back up at them. "It couldn't wait, I'm sorry-"

"You're still in your pyjamas and it's gone six in the evening-" Hermione said, her mouth twitching.

"Well yeah, I only just got up…" Harry trailed off, suddenly feeling far too warm as memories from earlier floated through his mind.

"What's the emergency then, mate?" Ron chipped in, sitting opposite Harry and leaning back, his chair swinging on two legs.

"Erm- Ginny came by this morning and I wasn't expecting her, and I was, well I shouldn't have been- and then I-" Harry began, wondering how the hell he was going to break the news to his two best friends. He considered for a moment running away and letting them find out from anywhere but him, but a firm voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Draco told him to get on with it, they deserved to hear this from Harry himself.

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other, Hermione looking like she was trying her hardest not to giggle.

"Harry-" she began.

"Look, I didn't mean to hurt Ginny! It just happened-" Harry said, panicking slightly.

"Forget Ginny," Ron said firmly. "What have you done?"

Harry didn't say anything and Ron rolled his eyes. "Harry, you're as thick as a brick if you think we don't know," he said patiently.

Harry stared at him, dumbfounded. How the hell could they know? He hadn't said anything to anyone, he'd never even mentioned-

"Let me guess," Ron said, interrupting Harry's thoughts and sounding amused, swinging back even further on his chair and holding onto the table top with one hand. "You snogged Malfoy-"

"I had sex with him." Harry blurted out before he could stop himself.

There was an almighty crash and Hermione shrieked; Ron had let go of the table in shock and his chair had toppled over backwards, leaving him sprawled out on the kitchen floor on his back, coughing violently and his face as red as his hair.

Harry leapt up, leaning over the table and reaching out to pull Ron up who emerged, spluttering and leaning on the tabletop with his elbows, staring at Harry in disbelief, his expression borderline horrified.

"Merlin, you don't hang about, do you?" He said weakly.

"That's not- hang on- you're not going to kill me?" Harry asked warily as Ron shakily picked his chair up.

"No," Hermione said, with a small smile. "We knew something would happen between you two sooner or later," she paused, biting her lip to stifle her giggles once more, "though maybe we weren't expecting _that _until later. A lot later."

"How did you know?" Harry asked.

"Oh come on, everyone knew. You stalking Malfoy at school, saving his life over and over, you being _rubbish_ with girls, the completely hypothetical conversation about doing something you shouldn't have-" Ron said, shaking his head and sitting back down.

"So everyone knew I was going to end up with Malfoy except me?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Yes," Hermione and Ron said simultaneously.

"Although I didn't expect you to be…well…you really had sex with him?" Ron asked, grimacing slightly.

Harry buried his face in his hands, feeling a flush rising in his face. "God I shouldn't have said that, I didn't mean to-"

"Damn straight you shouldn't, I'm going to be having nightmares for weeks-"

"Ron!" Hermione said reproachfully, resting a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder. "How did it…well, how did you end up…you know?"

"We were fighting," Harry said, casting his mind back. "Last night we ended up kissing again and I got up this morning to make tea and he thought I'd ran off again, he says he hates it when he gets up and I'm always gone…and he said he was leaving, and then he said…he said he loved me so I kissed him, and then Ginny turned up and she went _mental_ at me and Draco hexed her and took her wand."

"Malfoy hexed Ginny?"

"He said he _loved _you?"

"Yes and yes," Harry said wearily. "I couldn't believe it," he said, looking up and them both. "He stood up for me, he's been so up and down, and then this just came out of nowhere, and everything he said, and the _way_ he said it-"

"Got you so overexcited you ended up in bed," Hermione finished in a matter of fact tone, making Ron wince.

"Well, yeah," Harry said lamely.

"Are you alright with it…?" Hermione asked hesitantly and Harry nodded vigorously. Ron now looked determinedly in the other direction.

"Then what's the emergency? If this is what you want?" she asked.

"I wanted to tell you before Ginny did. I was panicking about what she saw earlier and I knew she'd twist it," Harry said honestly. Ron cautiously looked back now the conversation seemed to be moving away from the sex-with-Draco-Malfoy topic.

Hermione gave him a wide smile and squeezed his shoulder. "Thank you," she said gently.

"Where is Malfoy now?" Ron asked gingerly.

"At home, asleep when I left," Harry said, and immediately noticed the startled glance that Ron threw Hermione.

"Right, let me get this one straight- you two had a massive fight this morning because he gets mad that you always leg it after you kiss, and then you shag him and leave?" Ron asked incredulously.

Harry was halfway to forming words to tell Ron that Draco was the one to have done the shagging but his brain suddenly clicked on to what Ron was saying and he looked up at Ron in horror.

"Shit!"

"Fucks sake Harry, you _prat_," Ron said, standing up as Harry did too. "You know he's emotionally unstable-"

"You don't think he'd-" Harry asked, his face paling.

"I don't know!" Ron said impatiently. "You know him better."

"Harry, you need to go home, _now,_" Hermione said, concerned.

"God, I'm an idiot," Harry said, panicking, leaving the kitchen and running over to the fireplace, grabbing a handful of floo powder and flinging it into the grate.

"Harry!" Ron caught his arm before he could step into the flames. "Are you sure about this? You and Malfoy?"

"I love him," Harry said honestly. "I don't know how, but-"

"Explain later," Ron said, letting go of Harry's wrist and waving him off. "Just make sure he's OK-"

"Thank you," Harry said earnestly to Ron before diving into the green flames and heading home.


	18. Rooftops

Harry staggered into the sitting room, rubbing ash off of his face and feeling completely panicked. What the hell had he been thinking, leaving Draco alone with no warning- especially after what had just happened between them? Leaving someone after sex was an awful thing to do, let alone when the person you were leaving was not the most emotionally stable person in the world and had specifically _said _that they hated that happening.

He ran into his room, inwardly chanting _please please please please,_ hoping that Draco would still be asleep and Harry could just sneak back under the covers with him and hold him close so their skin was pressed together again, and be there when he awoke to kiss him-

Harry pushed the door open to see an empty bed before him, the blankets tossed haphazardly away.

"Fuck! _No_!"

Harry stepped in the room, looking around desperately even though it was clear there was no-one in the room. His searching eyes noted Draco's clothes were gone from the floor and he cursed again. He span around, walking onto the landing and looking up and down the flights of stairs.

"Draco!" he shouted experimentally, his heart thudding in his mouth. "Damn it, Draco!"

He chose down the stairs first, hurling down them in such haste that he tripped awkwardly down the last two stairs, twisting his ankle as he staggered towards the kitchen. He ignored the shooting pain which didn't do anything to distract him from the terror that was growing by the second as he checked the kitchen, then the bathrooms, then the library.

All empty.

He ran up the stairs to Draco's room, forcibly reminded of the day Draco had injured his hand which did nothing to alleviate his fears. He pushed the door open and could have cried when he saw the room was as deserted as the others.

"DRACO!" he bellowed, his fists clenched in frustration, pacing over to look in the bathroom and slamming the door with a frustrated howl when he saw it was empty. He was about to run back downstairs and fire-call Ron and Hermione and beg for advice, help, _anything_, when his sharp eyes caught something out of place in the room. On the desk in front of the window was a wand, and Harry recognised it as Ginny's.

He stepped cautiously over to the desk, picking up the wand and then realised why it was there and what it had been used for. The window, which Harry had taken steps to secure before Draco's arrival, had been unlocked and was open a fraction, moving ever so slightly in the wind.

Harry climbed up onto the desk, cursing fluently and feeling sick to his stomach, pushing the window open and looking around with trepidation. Just outside the window a wrought iron fire escape snaked its way up and down the building; down leading to the back yard of the house and up leading to the roof.

Harry had been up to the roof twice in his life and had always planned to renovate it into the sun terrace it could have been- it was already smothered in concealment charms ready for the work to be done, but he had never got round to it.

Instinctively, Harry knew that that was where Draco would have gone. Down the fire escape meant he would have go venture out into London by himself, without his own wand and with nowhere to go. Up to the roof made more sense even though the thought of why Draco would have gone up there alone wasn't at all comforting.

The fire escape groaned slightly as Harry slipped out of the window and grabbed hold of the metal railing, climbing slowly up the steps and ignoring the pain in his ankle. He hauled himself up the last step and over the wall at the top and promptly fell into a body that was standing at the top of the stairs, one hand on the railings.

Harry nearly fell face first onto the gravel that topped the small flat space on the roof but two hands grabbed him roughly and he found himself hauled up by his shirt, coming face to face with a furious looking Draco who at first glance looked completely intact and uninjured.

"You're not dead." Harry said stupidly, blinking as Draco continued to glare at him. The wind up here tugged gently at their clothes, blowing Draco's fringe across his eyes which he brushed away impatiently.

"Of course I'm fucking not, you idiot-" Draco fumed.

Harry interrupted him. "Please don't jump," he pleaded, fully aware he was begging and completely unashamed by it. He grabbed hold of Draco's upper arms, holding on as tightly as he could so the blonde couldn't move.

"I'm-" Draco began.

"If you jump, I'll jump straight off after you," Harry threatened, his voice cracking. "So unless you want both of us-"

"POTTER!" Draco shouted, cutting off Harry's ranting. "I wasn't going to jump, you dick!"

There was a pause; Harry was momentarily thrown off balance and confused by Draco's words. "You weren't?"

"No, I was fucking well waiting for you to get back and wanted some fucking fresh air, and my magic isn't strong enough to undo the fucking charms you put on the doors!"

"What?"

"Don't stand there and gape at me-" Draco said angrily, his hands gripping Harry's shirt even tighter and giving him a shake. "I thought for a minute you'd been kidnapped by that Weasley bint, or _murdered, _and I was freaking out so badly I had to come out of the house before I fucking hyperventilated!"

Harry's brain really wasn't keeping up with the words that were tumbling furiously from Draco's mouth. Draco hadn't been aiming to kill himself? Draco had been worrying about _him?_ Harry had been so sure that Draco would have reacted badly to Harry leaving, that he would have been gone at worst, or badly injured at best.

"So you weren't going to-" he struggled to ask.

"No!" Draco said forcefully, his grip on Harry's shirt tightening. "If I was I would have done it by now, I wouldn't have waited around for you to show up because I know damn well you'd stop me doing anything like that."

Silence fell between them, but neither loosened their grip on the other. Draco was still staring at Harry although he didn't look quite as furious as he first had done when Harry had appeared on the roof. Harry was still trying to understand everything he had just heard, not quite daring to hope that something amazing had happened.

"You were worried about me?" Harry asked quietly.

"Yes," Draco said, exasperated.

"And you weren't going to kill yourself?"

"No," Draco replied, still sounding irritable but moving his face closer to Harry's and pressing their cheeks together.

Harry shut his eyes, suddenly feeling dizzy with a combination of relief and the sensation of Draco being so close to him, his breath warm on his face.

"But I left, after we…after- you said that you hate how I'm always gone-" Harry swallowed thickly, well aware of his idiocy and how damn lucky he was that Draco was even still alive.

"I didn't think that this time you were leaving because you didn't know how you felt about me," Draco said, his tone changing from exasperated and impatient to quiet and explanatory. "I thought you'd been caught up in some trouble like you always bloody manage to get yourself in, but then when I got up here and calmed down I just figured you'd been sidetracked with some Weasley related business."

"I thought you would…" Harry couldn't bear to say it again so trailed off, rubbing his cheek lightly against Draco's, seeking comfort from the blonde.

"Yesterday I might have done," Draco said in a barely audible voice. "Something's changed."

"What?" Harry asked.

"You know full well what," Draco said forcefully.

Harry did. He believed Draco 100% when Draco said he had fallen in love with him. What he had not been expecting was that love to be enough to stop Draco reverting to his defences of hurting himself in the wake of Harry's stupid, thoughtless actions. It made him feel slightly giddy to think that it had.

"I'm sorry I left. I didn't think," Harry said honestly after a while. "I just wanted to do damage control. We're going to have enough trouble as it is when this comes out, I didn't want any more than completely necessary."

"We?" Draco asked in a strange voice, his lips brushing against Harry's cheek.

There was a pause and Harry felt Draco's grip on his shirt relax slightly and in response gently ran his hands up and down Draco's arms.

"If you want," he said softly.

Draco moved and pressed his forehead against Harry's, his eyes shut. "I'm still a nightmare, Potter."

"You know, seeing as you fucked me earlier I'd say you should start calling me Harry," Harry said bluntly and Draco smiled weakly.

"Force of habit."

They lapsed into silence again, Harry knowing that Draco was trying to sort his feelings out and would speak again in time. Draco was great at being angry, bluffing, mocking, sidetracking and changing the subject but still wasn't any good with being simply honest about his feelings.

"I'm still not OK," Draco said after a few minutes, not opening his eyes as he spoke. "I miss my mother so badly it physically hurts, and there's all this guilt and I still…there are still going to be days where I'll not want to do this anymore."

"I know," Harry said, moving his hands to wrap Draco in an embrace, his hands moving up and down his back.

"I'm serious. One day I _will_ probably try and jump off the roof." Draco replied, his own arms moving to encircle Harry's waist, holding onto him tightly. That grip told Harry everything. Draco wanted to hold on, and he wanted to hold on to Harry.

"I know," Harry repeated. "I don't mind- I still want to look after you. But this isn't a healer, patient thing," he added quickly.

"I gathered," Draco said with the trace of a smile. "You'd have been sacked as a Healer if you did what we did earlier with a patient."

Harry felt a flush rise in his neck but was spared the embarrassment of having to reply by Draco speaking again, sounding hesitant.

"How do you definitely know that it isn't one of those things? You've always had a hero complex haven't you? How do you know that this just isn't that…?"

"I think you know the answer to that," Harry said quietly.

"You love me too," Draco breathed and Harry nodded, leaning in and gently placing a kiss on Draco's lips.

"I'd say so," he said when he pulled away.

"I still think you're a pain in the arse," Draco said, returning Harry's kiss.

"Yes, you too," Harry said, amused.

"And I'm still going to call you Potter," Draco said firmly.

"And you're still going to throw tantrums when you don't get your own way, and do things I don't understand, and not talk to me some days just because you don't feel like it, and call me names when you're upset and don't want to admit it," Harry finished with a smile. "I know all that and it's fine."

Draco leant back a little, eyeing Harry suspiciously. "And you want to be in a relationship with me?"

"Yes," Harry said firmly. "You're hard work, but it's _good_ hard work," he tried to explain. "You challenge me in different ways every day, and I love that."

"You have to understand though, I'm still-" Draco began hurriedly.

"One day at a time," Harry said. "You've already come a long way though. Just look at today, you could easily have flipped out and I would have understood completely if you had done, but you didn't."

"Well I knew you weren't going because of me, I trust you, and- well no, I-" Draco stopped, obviously struggling with the words.

"Don't talk," Harry said with the ghost of a smile. "You're no good with words."

Draco didn't argue. Instead he nodded, taking a deep breath and letting it out through his nose, stepping back from Harry and taking his hand in his, looking around at the rooftops that spread in every direction as far as he could see.

"Harry Potter," he said, looking a little helplessly back at Harry, shaking his head. "Are you ever going to just bugger off out of my life?"

"Not a chance," Harry said, giving him a smile which widened as Draco gave him a small one in return.

"Come on," Harry said, pulling gently on Draco's hand and making to walk back towards the fire escape.

"Where are we going?" Draco asked, grabbing Harry around the waist with one arm as he noticed Harry limping slightly. "And what the hell have you done to your foot?"

"I fell down the stairs when I was running about looking for you," Harry shrugged, allowing Draco to support him and help him back onto the fire escape. "And we are going to go and get in my bed and not get out of it until we have to."

"Back in your bed, Potter?" Draco teased.

"Yes. I feel I owe you after leaving earlier," Harry said. "So this time, we'll have sex and _neither_ of us will go anywhere for a long, long time."

"I can live with that," Draco said, a hint of a smirk crossing his face.

"Yes," Harry smiled, looking at the man next to him and feeling the same rush of fierce joy and love that had swept through him when they had been in bed together earlier that day as Draco smiled back. "I think we both can."


	19. Epilogue: The right state of mind

_Just over three years later_

* * *

Harry stared at the slab of granite in front of him, the wind blowing around him and tugging at his clothes and hair as if it were pleading with him to walk away, scattering spent autumn leaves across the small private cemetery.

He shook his head impatiently, not ready to go just yet. It was cold, and his jacket wasn't the best at keeping the wind at bay but he ignored it; burying the lower half of his face behind his scarf as his eyes travelled over the single word etched into the top of the stone, his gloved hand following to slowly trace the intricate lettering.

Malfoy.

He never knew why he came here really, he wasn't sure if it made him feel better or not. He liked the peace and quiet, and the strange sense of connection he got from being close to the grave. That was enough.

He inexplicably thought back to a day over three years ago; the day after he had found Draco on the rooftop. As planned, they had spent nearly a full twenty four hours holed up in Harry's bed, the best twenty four hours of Harry's life. They had forgotten all about the rest of the world, safely wrapped up in each other, whispering, kissing, laughing, touching and smiling.

That was before Ron had turned up, ashen faced and stammering, with a copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in his hand. Draco and Harry had looked together in silence at the front page which sported the bold headline 'Chosen-One leaves long term love for Death Eater.' Beneath the headline was a large picture of the two of them nestled together outside Florean Fortesque's ice cream parlour, probably courtesy of the arsehole shopkeeper from the Magical Menagerie.

The fallout had been huge and intense for at least three months. Harry had been forced to take a month off of work due to being constantly hounded by reporters and photographers, just like after the war. Even with a lot of support from their friends and the majority of the public, they had still received their fair share of Howlers, nasty letters and threats. Draco had took the brunt of the bad feelings; when the worst was over they had started to venture back outside, refusing to hide away, but Draco had still been shouted at and on one occasion he had been hexed. Harry had been furious and hexed the woman straight back, but he could still remember the look on Draco's face so clearly; desperation for it all just to _go away_.

"Harry?"

A quiet voice came behind him and he felt Hermione's arms steal around his middle, hugging him tightly with her face resting against his back.

"You know you should come home soon. These Sunday get-togethers aren't the same without you there, especially when they're in your house."

He didn't answer and they stood there for a while longer, Harry feeling grateful for Hermione's quiet but comforting presence.

"Ready," he finally said, giving her hands a squeeze and letting her take his hand as they walked out of the cemetery to apparate back home.

Harry hung his coat, scarf and gloves up at the bottom of the stairs of Grimmauld Place next to the others and followed Hermione up the stairs where he could hear shouts of laughter and chatter coming from the sitting room. He followed her in and hung at the back of the room in the doorway, smiling as she went and sat next to Ron and took baby Rose out of his arms, saying something to him which made him grin and kiss her temple.

George and Angelina were also there, both sprawled out on the carpet together and laughing with Adam and Quinn, the Beaters from Harry's Quidditch team. The party was completed by Neville and Ginny who were sat in an old armchair together, deep in conversation. Harry was content with quietly watching his friends for a moment, immeasurably grateful that they were all still there for him.

"Coming in, Harry?" Adam called, spotting him across the room and giving him a wave.

"Yeah, in a minute," Harry said back with a small smile, retreating out of the doorway and heading to his room. He pushed the door open gently, seeing the curtains were still drawn. He tiptoed across the room and climbed onto the bed, pulling the covers back sharply.

"Augh! What the fuck?"

"Get up," Harry grinned down at a rumpled and rather put-out looking Draco who was trying in vain to pull the covers back up over his head. "It's gone noon, we'll be eating in an hour."

"Get out of here, Potter," Draco said irritably, giving up on the covers and rubbing his face tiredly. "I'm perfectly happy sleeping until food is ready."

Harry rolled his eyes. "We've got a house full of guests, you should be entertaining."

"Get fucked," Draco rolled back over away from Harry, nuzzling back down into the pillow that was normally Harry's and making to go back to sleep.

"They've bought the baby with them today, you'll have to stop swearing," Harry said, sliding under the covers and sitting up against the headboard, putting a hand on Draco's shoulder to roll him back over. Draco grumbled but complied, resting his head on Harry's lap and draping an arm across his legs.

"You're freezing, where have you been?" Draco asked, yawning widely.

"Out to Godric's Hollow and the Manor…" Harry said sheepishly.

"I don't _get _your thing with visiting graves," Draco said, rolling his head back to frown at Harry. "Going to your own parents is bad enough, but my parents too?"

"I don't know, I just like it. Good for thinking, you know," Harry shrugged, running his fingers absent mindedly through Draco's hair and smiling at the somewhat exasperated expression on Draco's face. "Please get out of bed?" he asked.

"Well, I could get out of the bed…" Draco said in an innocent tone that set Harry on his guard immediately. "Or you could stay in the bed…"

Nimble fingers lifted Harry's shirt up and Draco pressed a lingering kiss against Harry's abdomen. Harry shut his eyes and allowed Draco to gently kiss him once more before rolling away and getting off the bed.

"Nice try," he said as Draco pulled a face at him. "And _I_ don't get your thing about being stupidly horny the moment you wake up."

"Where have the days gone where you used to indulge my every whim?" Draco grumbled, following him out of the bed, albeit with a very bad grace.

"I figured you'd had your fill of me this past week," Harry teased. "I seem to remember you saying you couldn't take anymore by Wednesday."

"You were being rough," Draco yawned, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist and kissing him. "I'd like to see _you_ take it like that-"

"Yeah, i'll bet you would," Harry said and Draco looked at him, with a challenging expression on his face.

"A bet? You're on," he said and Harry rolled his eyes at him.

"Alright, but _later_. I'm not letting you do that to me whilst we've got a house full of guests," Harry said firmly, smiling nonetheless.

"You're no fun," Draco yawned again. "Fine. I suppose I can wait, as long as you make it worth waiting for," he said, kissing him again before sloping off to find some clothes.

Harry shook his head, grinning and left the room. He didn't wait for Draco; he knew he wouldn't make any effort to rush despite the house being full of people but he didn't mind. They had only gotten back from their week long trip to Paris the day before and Draco had been shattered when they got back, falling asleep on the sofa within five minutes of sitting down in front of the TV.

Harry rejoined the group in the sitting room, sitting on the sofa and happily listening to Adam and Quinn regaling tales of Quidditch to Ron and George. He was fully absorbed in the conversation, laughing as Quinn and Adam argued about just whose fault it was that Harry had almost been decapitated by a rather vicious bludger in their last match. He was about to open his mouth to chip in when a body plonked itself down on his knee, knocking the air out of him with an _ooft_.

"Git," he said, pushing a now fully dressed Draco off of his knee, sending him sprawling onto the sofa. Draco grinned and settled himself at Harry's side, leaning back against him and pulling Harry's arm around his shoulders, holding onto his hand with both of his. Even after all this time he still did things like that when people came to visit; unconciously using Harry as a shield even though all of the people there were perfectly accepting if him, and even got along well with him. Harry didn't mind, on the contrary he secretly liked how Draco instinctively came to him for support even though he was perfectly capable of looking after himself these days.

Draco saw Ginny glance twice at them as he pulled Harry's arm around him but he wasn't bothered at all. She had gotten over Harry pretty quickly with the help of Neville, and Harry was always happy to say they were better suited than he and Ginny ever had been. The glance was probably because the animosity between Draco and Ginny had still not faded completely, stemming from Draco conveniently forgetting to apologise for hexing her and now, three years on, he had no intention of remembering. It was only after a sharp telling off from Ron that they had agreed to be civil for everyone's sake, on the condition that they didn't have to spend any time alone together, _ever_.

"So how was Paris, Draco?" Hermione asked, bouncing baby Rose on her lap.

"What? Oh yeah, it was good. Good wine," Draco yawned again.

Hermione threw a hand up in exasperation. "God, you two go on holiday at least three times every year and all I ever get is the word _good_ and some comment about alcohol!"

"That's not true," Draco said indignantly.

"What did you discover when you went to the south of France?" Hermione asked promptly.

"White wine," Draco responded with a grimace.

"And Italy?"

"Red wine."

Harry began to laugh and Hermione joined him, laughing long and loud.

"You're all fucking ridiculous," Draco said petulantly, letting go of Harry's hand and folding his arms across his chest. The gesture was only half hearted; Harry reached out with his fingers and Draco immediately took his hand again, threading their fingers together.

"Come on Malfoy, we wouldn't do it if you didn't get so wound up," Ron said bracingly. "Did you two get any trouble this time?" he asked casually.

"None," Draco said. "We haven't had any for a while."

"I told you it would die down," Harry said.

"Yeah well, you weren't the one being spat at, and _hexed_-" Draco began defensively.

"I know," Harry said gently, turning his head to speak into Draco's ear so only he could hear him. "You coped well with everything and you know I'm proud of you."

"So, back to Paris," Hermione said loudly. "Nothing else _exciting_ happen then?" she asked in an innocent tone that fooled no-one.

"Like what?" Harry asked suspiciously, giving Draco a questioning look. Draco just shrugged.

"Well you know, you book a last minute portkey without telling anyone you were going, running off to the most romantic city in the world for a week…?" Hermione trailed off.

"And?" Draco asked blankly.

"What my dear sister-in-law wants to know is which one of you finally manned up and got down on one knee?" George called over from the carpet in front of the fire, grinning.

"What?" Draco and Harry asked simultaneously, looking to each other then round the rest of the group, perplexed.

"Come on mate," George grinned as Quinn chucked at the confused expression on Harry's face. "The rest of us got tied down, you expect to get away with it?" He ducked as Angelina aimed a slap at him, laughing.

"It has been…three years and a half years since you moved in with Harry," Hermione said to Draco and he looked momentarily puzzled.

"Fuck, it has, hasn't it?"

Harry grinned as Hermione and Angelina both winced, Hermione belatedly putting her hands over Rose's ears.

"Alright, what do you reckon, Potter? Shall we get hitched?" Draco drawled lazily, his eyes sparkling as he twisted around to look at Harry.

"Yeah, why not," Harry yawned in response.

"When?" Draco asked.

"Next summer," Harry replied promptly.

"There you go," Draco said casually to Hermione, one eyebrow raised. "Sorted."

Hermione and Angelina spluttered, Ron, Ginny and Adam gaped and George, Neville and Quinn burst into peals of laughter.

Harry shrugged and looked at Draco who gave him a quick smile, leaning over to kiss him.

_Life is good_, Harry thought contentedly as Draco settled back down into Harry's side and was promptly drawn into a somewhat heated debate with Hermione, Angelina and Ginny over just what constituted a 'proper' proposal. Apparently Draco's didn't make the cut in the eyes of the women in the group.

Draco was immeasurably better, three and a half years on from when Harry had rescued him from behind the blue door in Saint Mungo's. True, he still had mood swings and would sometimes get unaccountably sad or irate over _nothing_, and he would snap and complain and take it all out on Harry, but Harry knew all the ways to help him through it and would do so gladly and patiently every time. The way Harry looked at it, Draco had yet to make good on his word that he would one day jump off of the roof and that's the way Harry wanted to keep it.

Harry smiled and gently kissed the side of Draco's head as the blonde continued to bicker with the girls. He was surrounded by supportive friends who were all doing well, he had a job he enjoyed, his own home, and the most unexpected but amazing person by his side.

Yes, Harry thought, still smiling. Life was definitely good.

Fin...

...

...

For now.

* * *

'I feel the weight of the world sometimes,  
hanging on my head.  
Look for the light at the end of this tunnel once again.

I'm talking about the right state of,  
the right state of,  
the right state of your mind.'

_State of Mind- Mad Caddies_

* * *

HOLY HELL I DID IT.

This story has cost roughly fifty six pints, thirteen take away pizza's, three all nighters, one skipped lecture, four temper tantrums, one missed train, two very cross friends, one 'shift' key and one broken jaw in the course of it's completion and it's been so worth it :)

Thank you a million to everyone who reviewed, your comments kept me going through this and drove me to update pretty quickly so wins all round.

So thanks go to: AlineDaryen, Malfoysbtch22, Silver Eyes, Fiona, Drarry, .malfoyx, BlackAsDay, Pockety, Karou, aweebouy, Tkaulitz's girl, Lovvan, orange, XoX, ladyluna3313, The GodMachine, Mayajane, Potter1291, jen, AnimeMerodi, panda bee, micro chibi baka-san, julietplz, bella92, DarkEra'Ssnow, Silverwoman, Darloudasha, ., SarahXxUnlovedxX, Hibiko Shinici , Silverears, fanaddict21, Anna, Charlysnape, Asalea, Hime no Akuma, im rad bby, saturnmax, Box of Trinkets, Nariavane, fuckyeah, rousse, thepureandsimpletruth, blackasday, sushibar, melrose corvella, followthedarke, LaurenB16, lilnicky21, yyqh, Faescribe35 and nightly craze for reviewing- and anyone else who does after I post this

I did debate extending past chapter 18 (Rooftops) to deal with the fall out from events, but at the end of the day my aim was to try and write a story concerning Harry and Draco's developing relationship and that seemed a natural conclusion. If I didn't and tried to deal with everyone else too, I'd be writing forever and it took me long enough to think of 19 chapter titles let alone the 25/30 we could have got to if I dragged it out.

BUT, but, but - if anyone is intrigued about certain events I may have mentioned but not gone into detail with, or events that will have happened but I haven't mentioned, (from before, during or after) please let me know in a message or a review and I'll happily do some extras. XD

Oh, and apologies for any damage done to computers as a result of Ginny bashing/ reactions to Harry being a prat.

LOVE AND THANKS TO YOU ALL!


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